A 



< - 




f- 






I 

1 



THE LIVES 



OF THE 



BRITISH REFORMERS. 



EMBELLISHED 



WITH TWELVE PORTRAITS. 



M ■ 



^ 



PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 

PAUL T. JONES, PUBLISHING AGENT. 

1844. 



48 65 55 
AUG Z ? 1942 



3T^373 



Frinled by 
VVillinni S Martien. 



INTRODUCTION 

The Presbyterian Board of Publication have made a 
valuable contribution to the Christian literature of our 
country, in republishing the London Tract Society^s 
Lives and Writings of the British Reformers, in twelve 
volumes. The work is one of sterling" merit, and de- 
serves a place in every well selected library. It is 
still possible that some may not be able to purchase 
it, who would nevertheless desire some information 
respecting the lives and characters of those excellent 
men, who were the favoured instruments of diffusing 
the light of the gospel through the British Isles. To 
accommodate such, and at the same time, to prepare 
a volume suitable for Sabbath School Libraries, the 
Board have selected from the larger work the biogra- 
phical sketches of the principal Reformers, and com- 
prised them in the present volume. In adopting this 
plan the only inconvenience that occurred in using the 
stereotype plates already prepared, was that a uni- 
form system of paging could not be secured. This, 
however, will subject the reader to no practical diffi- 
culty, as he will readily find any particular life by 
noticing its order in the table of contents. 

The volume is presented to the Church in the earn- 
est hope that it may tend to preserve a due estimate 
of the glorious Reformation, in an age when Roman- 
ism is making unusual efforts to rivet the chains of its 
bondage on the liberated minds and consciences of the 
Protestant world. 



CONTENTS. 



LIFE OF JOHN VVICKLIFF, 
DISCIPLES OF WICKLIFF, 
LIFE OF THOMAS BILNEY, 
WILLIAM TINDAL, 
JOHN FRITH, 
" Dr. ROBERT BARNES. EDWARD VI. 

QUEEN CATHERINE PARR, 
LADY JANE GREY, 
Dr. HUGH LATIMER, 
Dr. JOHN HOOPER, 
JOHN BRADFORD, 
Dr. NICHOLAS RIDLEY, 
THOMAS CRANMER, 
JOHN ROGERS, 
LAWRENCE SAUNDERS, 
Dr. ROWLAND TAYLOR, 
JOHN KNOX, 
THOMAS BECON, 
JOHN JEWELL, 
JOHN FOX, 
" JOHN BALE, 

« MILES COVERDALE, 

NOTICE OF ANNE ASKEW, 

PATRICK HAMILTON, 
HENRY BALNAVES, 
JOHN CARELESS. 



SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE 



JOHN WICKLIFF, D. D. 



The state of England during the latter part of the fourteenth 
century presents many causes for painful reflection. Luxury 
and pride characterised the higher classes, while the lower orders 
were involved in misery, and vice abounded among all ranks. 
Contemporary historians ascribe much of this dissoluteness of 
morals to the civil wars of preceding reigns, whereby the land 
was desolated, and the bonds of society relaxed. The internal 
peace of the country, it is true, had become more settled, but 
many causes united to prevent moral improvement. A long 
course of foreign victory inflated the national pride; the wealth 
that accrued to individuals from successful warfare, with the 
habits acquired thereby, promoted luxury and dissipation among 
the higher ranks, further stimulated by the introduction of new 
articles of expense through an increasing commerce.* Mean- 
while, the people in general were exhausted by calls for pecuniary 
supplies and personal aid to carry on foreign hostilities; and 
the feuds and oppressions of powerful barons, with the constant 
plundering of bands of robbers for many years suffered to exist 
with impunity, caused much misery among the lower orders, 
whose sufferings led to the insurrections in the early part of the 
reign of Richard II. Such in reality was the state of England in 

* The ransom of the prisoners taken by sir Walter Maimy in one cam- 
paip^n, A. D. 1340, was equal to 100,000Z. of our present money. 

Walsingham states that, " a. d. 13 18, such quantities of furred gar- 
ments, fine linen, jewels, gold and silver plate, rich furniture and uten- 
sils, the spoils of Caen, Calais, and other foreign cities, were brought into 
England, that every woman of rank obtained some of them, and they 
were seen in eveiy mansion. Then the ladies of England became proud 
and vain in their attire, and were as much elated by the acquisition of 
that finery, as the ladies of France were dejected by the loss of it." 

The value of the articles regularly imported into England, a. d. 1354, 
was less than 40,000Z. not an eighth part of the amount exported, which 
shows how little the mass of the community were able to indulge in the 
luxuries or conveniences of life. The imports were of that description, 
while the exports were chiefly articles of produce. By this difference 
between the imports and exports, the vast sums drained from England by 
the court of Rome and foreign ecclesiastics were supplied. 

1* 



6 Wickliff.—Life, 

the days of Wickliff, as depictured by the annalists who lived 
near his time, although general historians, engrossed by military 
details and political events, dwell but slightly upon these painful 
circumstances.* 

Another cause tended much to produce and to perpetuate an 
unhappy state of society. For the soul to be without knowledge 
is not good, and those were days of ignorance and mental dark- 
ness. Some symptoms of a revival of learning appeared, but as 
yet little progress had been made in science. The subtilties of 
the schools retarded all advances in useful knowledge, while the 
improvements in fine arts were made subservient to luxury, rather 
than beneficial to the general character of the age. But ignorance 
as to spiritual truth was the greatest and most serious evil. The 
main object of those who called themselves ministers of Christ, 
was to enslave the minds and to plunder the property of the peo- 
ple committed to their charge; they kept from them the truths 
of the gospel, and souo-ht to be reverenced as beings superior to 
their fellow-men, while they indulged every debasing appetite. 
The corrupt and depraved state of the popedom at that period is 
admitted by every historian ; it is described as literally "a hell 
upon earth." To the papal power every ecclesiastic in Europe 
was compelled to look for authority and direction to exercise the 
duties of his charge, and we may easily imagine what was the 
general character of those to w4iom the popes and their counsel- 

* One proof of die licentionsnoss of those days will suffice. In 1380, 
an pxprclition was fitted out to aid in the wars of Rretagne. The 
English troops lay for soine time near Portsmouth, wind-bound aiKl 
waitint^ for provisions. Tliev ill treated the country round, forcibly 
cnrryinii off men's wives and daughters. Among other outraires, sfr 
John Arundell, the commander, went to a nunnery, and desired tliat his 
troops mii^ht l>e allowed to visit there! This being refused, they entered 
by violence, and on their departure compelled the nuns to i^o with them. 
A storm en mo on, when these unhappy females were throwni into the sea 
by tjie very persons who had forced them to embark ! The greater part 
of the fleet was lost on the const of Ireland; the leader with a thousand 
of his men i)erished. — See Walsin^ham. In Hollinshed will be found 
several other instances of the military licentiousness then prevalent. 
Kroissart relates that the French troops, prepared for the invasion of 
Fnf^land, were equally proflif^ate in their conduct, and pillatred their own 
countrymen without mercy. Kach "gentleman" was followed by a 
8<Tvant called " lui pillard," a plunderer. 

'I'he slate of the lower orders in Kn^land may be supposed from a 
record in the nnnals of Dunstable abbey, a. d. 1283, where the sale of 
William Tike, "our slave by birth, and all his family," is mentioned as 
a matter of course. 'I'he price was a mark, or thirteen shillinsrs and 
fourpence! The prices of food varied much, owing to frequent famines. 
In one year, 1317, according to Stow, the price of wheat varied from 
80*. to Gf. Sd. the quarter. In V.WX wheat was 1/. f.s. Sd.; in 13G1, 
at 2«. ; and in 13ti3, at \f)9. — See Fleetwo(Kl's Chron. Preciosum. The 
lower classes must have suflJ-red very nujch from those sudden varia- 
tions, and at the hit^h prices they would be (luite unable tojiurchase the 
necessaries of life. When the difference in the value of money and 
commodities is taken into calculation, a shilling in WicklifT's time was 
equal lu a pound at the present day. 



State of England in the fourteenth century. 7 

lors delegated the exercise of that paramount authority they had 
assumed. Igriorance as to scriptural truth was of course con- 
sidered by such priests as the best safeguard of their authority ; 
but though the church of Rome has maintained that ignorance is 
the mother of devotion, we know that such a source will yield 
only blind superstitious feelings, strongly opposed to true religion. 
The. instruction given to the lower classes at tlmt period tended 
to harden them in ignorance and vice : they committed their 
spiritual concerns entirely to the priesthood, or if the conscience 
refused to be silenced in this manner, it was diverted to the 
practice of austerities and will-worship, equally destructive to the 
soul. The few virtues of that age were not Christian virtues ; 
they were founded on the romantic notions of chivalry — faint 
glimmerings of light which only served to make the surrounding 
darkness more visible ; at best they were deceptive, leading the 
pilgrim from the way to real peace.* Only a small number of 
persons had been preserved from the corruptions of the papacy, 
but they, even in the darkest times, had exercised some influence 
upon Europe, though subjected to the most bitter persecution. 
A few individuals also, who were distinguished for mental 
powers, as Grosseteste and Bradwardine, had borne testimony in 
England against the usurpations and crimes of the papacy, while 
others had begun to perceive that the conduct of the priesthood, 
when examined by the rule of scripture, was altogether anti- 
christian. 

The circumstances already noticed should be kept in mind 
when we enter upon the history of Wickliff. The demoralized 
state of the land made it ripe for sufferings. In Israel of old, 
when luxury and wickedness abounded, prophets were sent to 
warn the people of approaching judgments, and to point out the 
way of salvation ; so in England, Wickliff and others were raised 
up to bear faithful testimony to the truth, and to denounce w^hat 
must be the end of the practices which then prevailed. f When 

* Froissart's Chronicles show this. The mixture of generosity and 
courtesy with licentiousness and cruelty, depictured by the chivalrous 
historian, will strike the reader very forcibly. 

t The monkish annalists, who were the English historians of those 
times, fully justify the sketch here given of the state of England during 
the fourteenth century. The Elnglish reader who may not have access 
to those sources of information, will find many particulars in the histo- 
ries of Henry, Andrews, and Turner. 

The height to which the luxury and excess of the times had arrived 
in the days of Richard IT., is thus described by Hollinshed : — " There 
resorted daily to his court above ten thousand persons, who had meat 
and drink there allowed them. In his kitchen were three hundred 
sen'itors, and every other office was furnished after the like rate. Of 
ladies, chamberers, and landererS: there were above three hundred at the 
least. And in gorgeous and costly apparel they exceeded all measure ; 
not one of them kept within the bounds of his degree. Yeomen and 
grooms were clothed in silks, with cloth of grain and scarlet, over 
sumptuous, ye may be sure, for their estates. And this vanity was not 
only used in the court in those days, but also other people abroad in the 



8 Wickliff.—Life. 

we recollect the state of England, and the cryinaf evils which 
called for exposure and reproof, we shall be satisfied that Wickliff 
was not an ambitious, or a revolutionary spirit, as some have de- 
scribed him, but rather a prophet, as Jeremiah, "weeping day 
and night for the slain of the daughter of his people,'' hearing 
the voice of the Lord, " Shall I not visit for these things ] Shall 
not iny soul be avenged on such a nation as this ]" One deeply 

towns and countries, had their garments cut far otherwise than had been 
accustomed before his days, with embroideries, rich furs, and gold- 
smiths' work, and every day there was devisings of new fashions, to the 
great hinderance and decay of the commonwealth. Moreover, such 
were preferred to bishoprics and other ecclesiastical livings, as neither 
could teach nor preach, nor knew any thing of the scfipture of God, but 
only to call for their tithes and dues; so that they were most unworthy 
the name of bishops, being lewd and most vain j^ersons distruised in 
bishop's apparel. Furthermore, there reitrned abiaidantly the tilthy sin 
of lecheiy and fornication, with abominable adultery, especially in the 
kini^, but most chiefly in the prelacv, whereby the wliole realm, by such 
their evil example, was so infected, that the wrath of God was daily 
provoked to vcniiennce for the sins of the prince and his i)eople.'' The 
receipts in the work, entitled " The Forjne of Cury,*' prove the luxury of 
the table in which the court then indul^^ed. 

The depraved state of the pojx^dom is described by almost ever\' writer, 
civil as well as ecclesiastical. One extract may be iriven from the epistles 
of Petrarch, who cannot be objected to as an authority on this subject. 
At *hat time there was a schism ifi the papacy, which it ntight be sup- 
posed would ol)liL^e the pretenders to the popedom to more tlian usual 
care, that they mi^ht not disi!;ust their adherents. But the state of the 
papal court at Avi^^non, about a. d. 1350, is thus described by Petrarch, 
and Rome was, if possible, more denraved. He says, the fonner city had 
become " a terrestrial hell, a resiamce of fiends and devils, a recep- 
tacle of all that is most wicked and abominable. There is no piety, no 
reverence or fear of God, no faith or charity, nothing that is holy, iust, 
equitable, or humane." He adds, " Why should I speak of tnith, wFiere 
not only the houses, palaces, courts, churches, and the thrones of popes 
and cardinals, but the very earth and air, aj^pear to teem with lies? 
A future state, heavrn, hell, and jiidmnent, are openly turned into ridi- 
cule as childisli fables. (Jood men liave of late been treated with so 
much contemi)t nnd scorn, that there is not one left amon«j: them to be 
an object of derision." 'J'his delineation Petrarch contirms by seveial 
fncl.s. In nnothrr place he says, "Whatever pertidy and tn^uchery, 
whatever barbarity and pride, whatever immodesty and unbridled luSt 
you have ever hrard or read of; — in a word, wlmtever impiety and 
immorality either now is, or ever was scattered over all the world, you 
may fmd here, aniass«>d in one heap." 'JMie lan«runy;e of Baroniup, 
the Romish annalist, is scarcely less stronir. 'J'he deprav(d state of 
ccrlesiaslics in Kn^land, partieulaily the emissaries of Rome and the 
monn8tic orders, is delineated by Chaucer in his Canterbury tales in 
appallinjT colours. It is also described by the author of t\\e Vision of 
Piers Plowman, and others; but the various decrees issued by the 
hijjjher ecclesiastical authorities respeetini; the hfe and maimers of 
the clerj^y, are suflicient and indisputable evidence. Many of these 
may l>e found in the third volunie of Wilkins's Concilia. They ftcem 
wholly to have fail* d in eflectincr any moral improvement, which is not 
Huri)risinj^ when we consider the sources from which they emanated. 
The ^ross doetrinal enors inculcated by the church of Rome, even 
after the days of Wickliff, are explicitly asserted in the proceedings 
against his followers. 



A. D. 1324.] His birth. 9 

impressed by such feelings could not be indifferent to the sacred 
office, nor should he be judged by estimates of what appear to be 
the duties of a minister of the gospel at the present period. We 
may consider England at that period, as in many respects re- 
sembling Judah in the days of the son of Hilkiah. Like him, 
Wickliff was called from the priesthood of the land, to bear tes- 
timony as a prophet before kings and rulers, and like him, was 
unavoidably implicated in the political events of the times. And 
though visitations were not sent upon England to the same extent 
as those inflicted upon Judah, yet the painful scenes exhibited 
in the civil wars of the succeeding century, show that famine and 
the sword came upon the land, and that the people were punished 
for the fruit of their doings. National crimes will bring down 
national judgments. Warnings are sent previously to desola- 
tions, but when the voice of the Lord, speaking by his faithful 
ministers, is disregarded, execution will assuredly follow. It 
was so in the period referred to. The wickedness and profligacy 
of England in the fourteenth century were extreme, the awful 
and certain consequences v^^ere plainly exhibited by Wickliff and 
his associates ; many, there is good reason to believe, sought the 
things which concerned their peace, but the nation at large per- 
sisted in evil courses, and persecuted to death the witnesses of 
the truth. The calamities which followed have been but feebly 
depictured in the pages of history ; the particulars of individual 
suffering are forgotten amidst details of martial enterprise. May 
England not forget the innumerable mercies she has since then 
received ! may the warnings of faithful ministers of Christ not 
again be despised ! and may our national sins never again arise 
to such a height as to bring national judgments upon our 
country ! 

John Wickliff* was born about the year 1324, at a village 
of the same name, a few miles from the town of Richmond in 
Yorkshire, where his ancestors had resided from the time of the 
Conquest. The family were respectable, and possessed consi- 
derable property, but continued the advocates of those super- 
stitions which their relative earnestly laboured to remove. It is 
probable, that in consequence of the change in his views he was 
estranged from his own family. Under feelings of this nature 
he w^ould be led to use the language of one of his tracts, in which, 
speaking of the errors into which worldly minded parents oflen 
fall, he says, " With much travail and cost they get great riches, 
and estates, and benefices for their children, and often to their 

* The name of the reformer has been spelled in sixteen different ways. 
Wiclif is adopted by Lewis and Baber, and is used in the oldest document 
in which the name appears— his appointment to the embassy to the pope 
in 1374. WyclifFe is adopted by Vaughan, and appears to be the most 
correct. Wickliff is used in the present work as the most popular form. 
In those times orthography was but little attended to ; in proper names 
especially it was much neglected. 



10 Wickliff.—Life. [a. d. 1344. 

greater damnation ; but tliey incline not to get for their children 
the goods of grace and virtuous life. Nor will they suffer them 
to retain these goods, as they are freely proffered to them of God ; 
but hinder it as much as they may ; saying, if a child yield him- 
self to meekness and poverty, and flee covetousness and pride, 
from a dread of sin, and to please God, — that he shall never 
become a man, never cost them a penny, and they curse him 
because he liveth well, and will teach other men the will of God 
to save their souls! For by so doing, the child getteth many 
enemies to his elders, and they say that he slandereth all their 
noble kindred who were ever held to be true men and worship- 
fill."* In those days, next to the danger and reproach of being 
a heretic, and nearly as great, was the behig accounted a friend 
or relative of one suspected of heresy. 

All the memorial which remains of the history of Wickliff's 
youth is, that his parents designed their son for the church, and 
his mind was early directed to the requisite studies. He was en- 
tered at Queen's college, Oxford, an institution then recently 
founded, from whence he soon removed to Merton college, the 
most distinguished in the university at that period, when the 
number of scholars had recently been estimated to amount to 
thirty thousand. Wickliff's attention appears rather to have been 
directed to the studies suitable for his profession, than to general 
literature. As Fuller observes, "The fruitful soil of his natural 
abiliiies he industriously improved by acquired learning. He was 
not only skilled in the flishiouable arts of that ago, and in that 
abstruse, crabbed divinity, all whose truit is thorns, but he was 
also well versed in the scriptures, a rare accomplishment in those 
days." J)r. James enumerates various writers, by whom he con- 
siders Wickliff to have been grounded in the truth. He doubt- 
less learned much from the ikthers, and was considerably in- 
debted to Grossoteste and Bradvvardine: but his writings show 
that his religious principles were mainly derived from the 
bible.t 

His perusal of the scriptures and the fathers rendered him 

* MS. On Wedded Nfen; thrir Wives and Children.— See " The Life 
nnd Opinions of John de Wyclitrc, ilhistrated iirincipally from his unpiib- 
lishrd niaYiii.^rriptp, i)y Rol)ort VniiL'hnn," \'ol. I. y). '2.2'.^; a work whirh 
Hupplics a more comjilrti' prr.^onal history of thr rtfornuT nnd his 
wriiini^a than any which prcrc drd ir. Jly fhr author's permission consi- 
drrablo nso of Ihh valiia1)!<' selections lias l>ern made nv coninilin^ the 
present brief skrtch. The life of Wielif by I^^wis is well known, 
and deservedly esternied for the patient indii.stiy of the writer, and tlio 
vahiahle materials he has eollerted. It is, liowever. to he re^rettrd that 
he did not give a more hill areoiint of Wieklilf's doctrinal pieces. 
V«n£rhnn has done much to supply this deficieiu^.y. Considerahle nssist- 
' 1- also heen derived Iumo Hahcr's valnable .sketch of Wick- 
prefixed to his edition of the reformer's new testament. 

K.. ni. Fox, llollinshcd, and oilier early clironiclors also have been 

referred to. 

t See The History of the Church of Christ, Vol. III., for 'eome account 
of GroMetcsle and Bradwardinc. 



A. D. 1350.] His early studies. 11 

dissatisfied with the scholastic divinity of that age, while the 
knowledge of canon and civil law then requisite for a divine, 
enabled him to discern many of the errors of popery. His writings 
also show him to have been well acquainted with the laws of his 
own country. The four fathers of the Latin church, Jerome, 
Ambrose, Augustine, and Gregory, are continually quoted by 
him, so as to show his intimate acquaintance with their writings. 
Augustine, in particular, he seems to have valued next to the 
scriptures. It will not be forgotten that Luther derived much 
instruction from the writings of that father. The acknowledged 
ability of WicklifFas a scholar, led his adversaries to accuse him 
of evil designs rather than of ignorance, while his friends gave 
him the title of the Evangelic Doctor. Even Knighton states that 
he was second to none in philosophy. 

WicklifF's mind must have received deep impressions from an 
awful visitation of Providence which occured in the middle of the 
fourteenth century. Europe was shaken by a succession of earth- 
quakes ; shortly after, it was ravaged by a pestilence, the effects 
of which were more rapid and extensive than at this day we can 
easily conceive. More than half the people of this and other 
lands were swept away ; the alarmed survivors reckoned the mor- 
tality far higher.''^ That WicklifF was deeply impressed by this 
awful event, appee.rs by his frequent references thereto, when he 
is sounding an alarm to a careless and profane generation. Under 
a strong feeling that the end of the world approached, he wrote 
his first publica,tion, a small treatise, entitled " The last Age of 
the Church," in which he describes the corruptions which then 
pervaded the whole ecclesiastical state, as the main cause of that 
chastisement which Europe had so lately felt. Early and deep 
impressions of this nature, evidently tended much to strengthen 
and to prepare the reformer for the arduous course he was shortly 
called to pursue. That his mind had been led to look to the only 
true ground of support is evident from a passage in this tract, 
wherein he speaks of Christ Jesus as having " entered into holy 
things, that is into holy church, by holy living and holy teaching; 
and with his blood he delivered man's nature; as Zechariah 
writeth in his ninth chapter, Thou verily, with the blood of wit- 
ness, or of thy testament, hast led out from the pit them that 
were bound. So, when we were sinful, and the children of wrath, 
God's Son came out of heaven, and praying his Father for his 
enemies, he died for us. Then, much rather shall we be saved, 
now we are made righteous through his blood." 

Thus we find WicklifF in his thirty-second year, respected for 

* Knighton says, that before this plague a curate might have been 
hired for four or five marks a year, or for two marks and his board ; 
but after it, scarcely any could be found who would accept of a living of 
twent>' marks a year. Archbishop Islip interfered, and forbad any 
curate to claim an advance of . more than one mark yearly. Stow 
observes upon this limitation, that it induced many priests to turn 
robbers I 



12 WicUiff,—Life. [a. d. 1357. 

his scholastic acquirements, deeply impressed with the importance 
of divine truth, awakened to a sense of the divine judgments, 
enabled already to break through the bands of superstition, and 
in possession of that hope which alone can afford refuge for a 
guilty sinner. We shall now see how these preparations fitted 
him tor the contest, and led him to the encounter in which he 
was called to engage. 

The first circumstance which summoned WicklifFto this con- 
flict was a controversy with the mendicant friars. Some of them 
had settled at Oxford in 1221, where they attracted much notice 
by their professed freedom from tlie avarice of the monastic 
fraternities in general, and by their activity as preachers. They 
introduced many of the opinions afterwards adopted by the re- 
formers, for a time saying much in opposition to the papal autho- 
rity, and in support of the authority of the bible. But their 
errors and encroaching spirit soon appeared, so that Grosseteste, 
bishop of Lincoln, who for some years had favoured the friars, at 
length deeply censured their conduct. Tiieir zeal to proselyte 
youths at the universities to their orders, called forth vigorous 
opposition from Fitzraf, archbishop of Armagh, who, in a petition 
to the pope in 1857, affirmed that the students of Oxford were 
reduced on this account to six thousand, not more than a fifth of 
their former number.* In 1366, a parliamentary enactment 
ordered that none of the orders should receive any youth under 
the age of eighteen ; also that no bull should be procured by the 
friars against the universities. Similar disputes then prevailed 
in the university of Paris. The objections alleged against the 
mendicants, as stated by Wicklifl?", may be thus summed up: — 
they repre?ente<l a life inertly contemplative, as preferable to one 
spent in active attention to Christian duties; they were defective 
in morals when discharging their office of confessors; while 
itinerating in the offices they assumed, they persecuted all such 
as thoy detected really *' travelling to sow God's word among the 
people ;'' to these may be added a full proportion of every error 
and vice which has been char^red on the corrupt clergy of 
Rome. Nor did Wicklifl?" merely expose and seek to correct 
these fruits of error; he showed that they proceeded from the 
nnscriptural nature of the institutions, which evidently were 
opposed to those precepts of the bible, which they professed 
lo regard. 

Against these mendicants, Wickliflf wrote several tracts, en- 
titled, Of the property of Christ, Against able Beggary, and of 

* In his tract of Clrrks P()^«v'ssion^rp, Wioklifl' complains that " Friars 
draw children from Christ'e rrlip:ion into th^i^ private order, by hypocrisy, 
lyincs, niui Ptcnhnfi." \\v charcrs them with slcalintr cliildren from their 
parentfj through induein^z them to enter tlieir orders, by representinc; that 
men of their order would never come to hell, and would have higlier 
decree of bliss in heaven than any other. For an accoimt of Fitzraf, or 
Armachanus, nf< he was usually called, sec Fox, who gives a summary 
of hie arguments against the friars. 



A. D. 1360.] His controversy with the mendicant friars, 13 

Idleness in Beggary. * The vices of the friars led him to consider 
more fully the vices of the Romish priesthood. 

The approval which the conduct of Wickliff, in opposing the 
mendicants, received from the university, appears from his being 
chosen warden of Baliol college in 1361. In the same year lie 
was presented by his college to the living of Fillingham, in Lin- 
colnshire, which he afterwards exchanged for Ludgershall, in 
Wiltshire. In 1365 he was appointed warden of Canterbury hall, 
by Simon de Islip, the founder, then primate of England. 

In the instrument appointing Wickliff to this office, Islip states 
him to be a person on whose fidelity, circumspection, and industry 
he confided, one on whom he had fixed for that place for the 
honesty of his life, his laudable conversation, and knowledge of 
letters. Islip dying shortly after, Wickliff was displaced by 
Langham, his successor, who had been a monk, from whose de- 
cision he appealed to the pope. 

The integrity and courage of Wickliff are manifest from the 
boldness with which he continued to oppose the mendicants, both 
personally and by his writings, during the time his appeal was 
under consideration. 

Another circumstance assisted to call Wickliff into public no- 
tice. This was the decision of the English parliament in 1365, 
to resist the claim of pope Urban V., who attempted the revival 
of an annual payment of a thousand marks, f as a tribute, or 
feudal acknowledgment, that the kingdoms of England and Ire- 
land were held at the pleasure of the popes. His claim was 
founded upon the surrender of the crown by king John to pope 
Innocent III. The payment had been discontinued for thirty- 
three years, and the recent victories of Cressy and Poictiers, with 
their results, had so far strengthened the power of England, that 
the demand by the pontiff, of the arrears, with the continuance 
of the tribute, upon pain of the papal censure, were unanimously 
rejected by the king and parliament. The reader must recollect 
that this was not a question bearing only upon the immediate 
point in dispute ; the grand subject of papal supremacy was in- 
volved therein, and the refusal to listen to the mandate of the 
pope necessarily tended to abridge the general influence of the 
clergy. A measure of this description was almost unknown in 
the history of Europe at that day. Such claims were not lightly 
relinquished by the papacy, and shortly after this decision of the 
parliament, a monk wrote in defence of the papal usurpations, 
asserting that the sovereignty of England was forfeited by with- 
holding the tribute, and that the clergy, whether as individuals 
or as a general body, were exempted from all jurisdiction of the 

* In his writings Wickliff sometimes speaks of the houses of the 
friars as Cairn's castles, (Cain was then so spelt,) alluding to the ini- 
tial letters of the four mendicant orders, the Carmelites, Augustines, 
Jacobites, and Minorites. They were commonly called the White, 
Black, Austin, and Grey friars. 

t A mark is 13s. A.d. 

WICKLIFF. 2 



14 WickJif.—Life. [a. d. 1365. 

civil power, a claim which had already excited considerable dis- 
cussions in the preceding reigns. Wickliff was personally called 
upon by this writer to prove, if he were able, the fallacy of these 
opinions; nor should it be forgotten that this work did not pro- 
ceed from any of the mendicant orders, but from one of those 
monks who were directly opposed to them. Thus it is evident 
that Wickliff 's former conduct was rightly estimated to proceed, 
not from one who merely opposed the mendicants, as such, but 
from one who would oppose the leading errors of the church of 
Rome, under whatever guise they might appear. 

In Wickliff 's reply, wherein he has preserved the arguments 
of the monk, he styles himself one of the royal chaplains. He 
combats the assumptions of the church of Rome, confirming his 
sentiments by giving the substance of several speeches delivered 
by certain of the lay nobility in the recent debate relative to the 
claims of the pontiff. We need not enter into the contents of 
this tract further than to quotethe following declaration attributed 
to one of the speakers, that, " Christ is the supreme Lord, while 
the pope is a man, and liable to mortal sin, and who while in 
mortal sin, according to divines, is unfitted for dominion." The 
extent to which such a principle might be applied, is evident 
from the well-known wicked lives of the pontiffs, which had led 
to the monstrous assertion of Romish divines, that the pope, 
though guilty of the most heinous sins, still was to be obeyed 
and respected in his mandates; even those which concerned 
religion !* 

The treatise concludes with a view of the future, taken by 
Wickliff, which has long since been fulfilled. " If I mistake not, 
the day will come in which all exactions shall cease, before the 
pope will prove such a condition to be reasonable and honest." 
Who now in England ventures to assert that the temporal autho- 
rity of the pope is supreme] or that his ecclesiastics are exempted 
from the laws of God and their country? yet such doctrines were 
openly maintained in those ages, and still are asserted in some 
parts of Europe! The parliament in 1306 also directed regula- 
tions to bo observed, by which the power and influence of the 
mendicants were limited. In the part taken by the university of 
Oxford, during those proceedings, Wicklifl' doubtless was con- 
cerned, and the attention given to his arguments on these sub- 
jects, which then so deeply agitated the public mind, must have 

* Brllannine pocs fiirihrr, he says: "Though the pope should err in 
enjoining vices, and prohibitinjr virtnon, yet would the church be bound 
to believe the vices to be virtues, and llie virtues vices, if it would avoid 
einnini^ niininst its own consrieiice." De Ponfif. iv. 5. 

One of the p(>|)es says, "Tlir poj^e, who re[)resents on earth not mere 
man, hut true (iod, has n heavenly i>ow('r; and therefore changes the 
nature of llun^rs.— Nor is tliere any one that can say unto him, Why 
dost thou so? For he can dis|>ense laws; he can nuike justice injustice 
by alterinii and aniendinij laws, and he has a fulness of power." Infio- 
cent III. Glo9. A conteiuporary of Wickliir openly maintained that the 
pope was incapable of mortal sin ! 



A. D. 1366.] Resistance to the papal claims, 15 

brought his opinions concerning the scriptures, and other points 
more immediately connected with divine truths, into general no- 
tice. Thus attention was called to those doctrines which he now 
began publicly to advocate. One circumstance w^iich promoted 
this opposition to the papal claims, was the national animosity 
then existing between England and France. Many of the popes 
being natives of France, evinced their partiality for their own 
country, in which they then resided, on all occasions. All these 
concurring circumstances led Edward III. to pursue a line of 
conduct, which certainly characterises him as a promoter of the 
reformation, at least as to its outward concerns. 

John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, claims notice as conspicuous 
among the court and family of the British monarch, for the coun- 
tenance and support he afforded to WicklifF. Under his influence 
an attempt appears to have been made in 1371, by authority of 
parliament, to exclude ecclesiastics from all offices of state.* 
WicklifF, in his writings, has so fully shown his deep sense of 
the necessity for the clergy being exclusively devoted to the 
duties of their spiritual functions, that we cannot doubt of his 
intimate connexion with the prince from whom such a proposi- 
tion originated. The views of WicklifF as to the proper method 
of discharging the office of minister to the church, will appear 
by the following extract from one of his early pieces, entitled, 
"A short rule of life.'' He says, "If thou art a priest, and by name 
a curate, live thou a holy life. Pass other men in holy prayer, 
holy desire, and holy speaking; in counselling and teaching the 
truth. Ever keep the commandments of God, and let his gospel 
and his praises be ever in thy mouth. Ever despise sin, that men 
may be drawn therefrom, and that thy deeds may be so far right- 
ful, that no man shall blame them with reason. Let thy open 
life be thus a true book, in which the soldier and the layman 
may learn how to serve God, and keep his commandments. For 
the example of a good life, if it be open and continued, striketh 
rude men much more than open preaching with the word alone. 
And waste not thy goods in great feasts for rich men, but live a 
frugal life on poor men's alms and goods. Have both meat, and 
drink, and clothing, but the remnant give truly to the poor ; to 
those who have Freely wrought, but who now may not labour from 
feebleness and sickness; and thus shalt thou be a true priest both 
to God and to man." These are sentiments which remind us of 
the early ages of the church, and WicklifF was not one who set 
forth precepts for others, which he did not practise himself. 
Similar passages will be found in the following pages. Nor was 
he less earnest to enforce due respect for the ministers of religion, 
as will appear from the following extract. "Thy second father 

* Almost every ofBce of importance or profit was filled by ecclesi- 
astics, from that of lord chancellor, to the surveyor of the king's build- 
inffs and the superintendent of his wardrobe. About this time the chan- 
cellor was bishop of Ely ; the two latter offices were filled by the parsons 
of Oundle and flarwich. 




16 Wickliff.—Life. [a. d. 1370. 

is thy spiritual father, who has special care of thy soul, and 
thus shalt thou worship (reverence) him. Thou shalt love him 
especially before other men, and obey his teaching" as far as he 
teaches God's will. And help according" to thy power, that he 
have a reasonable sustenance when he doeth well his oihce. 
And if he fail in his office, by giving evil example, and in ceas- 
ing from teaching" God's law, thou art bound to have great 
sorrow on that account, and to tell meekly and charitably his 
default to him, between thee and him alone."* 

In 1370, the papal court decided against the continuance 
of Wickliff in the wardenship of Canterbury-hall. It was decreed 
that the inmates should all be monks, notwithstanding" the ex- 
press declarations of the founder, and the terms of the royal 
license to the contrary. The royal sanction to this sentence 
was obtained two years afterwards. Among the means employed 
by his opponents, bribery appears to have been the principal. 
Wickliff was neither surprised nor troubled by this decision ; 
he docs not refer to it in any part of his writings, nor was any 
imputation cast upon him thereby. 

In 1373, Wickliff was admitted to the degree of doctor in divi- 
nity. As this rank was at that time unfrcciuent, and conferred 
a considerable degree of influence, it must nave facilitated the 
diffusion of the doctrines he advocated throughout the kingdom. 
IM'iny of his scholastic pieces doubtless were lectures delivered 
by liim as a professor of divinity, to which oflice he was appointed 
in 1372. If is early Encrlish writings also show both the doc- 
trinal views, and the religious feelings with which lie proceeded 
in his new office. He was skilful in the -use of the artificial logic 
then in vogue, and by accustoming his hearers to enter into 
logical and metaphysical distinctions, he taught them to exercise 
their minds upon inquiries, which he gradually directed to more 
important subjects than those usually introduced into such lec- 
tures. 

Among these early pieces, the Exposition of the Decalogue, 
now in tlie (,^otton librar}^ may be included. f As that exposition 
difiiTs from the one in the present volume, a brief extract or 
two may be given. Urging that love to God be shown by 
keeping his commands, Wickliff says, " Have a remembrance of 
the goodness of ( I od, how he made thee in liisown likeness, and 
how Jesus Clirist, both God and man, died so painful a death 
upon the cross, to buy man's soul out of hell, even with his own 
lieart's blood, and to bring it to the bliss of lieaven." lie ad- 
monishes that the sabbath not only commemorates the work of 
creation, but also the resurrection of Christ, and the gifl of the 

* Vanphan ot>sor\'o9 upon this oxiract: "If WyrlifTo ever sanctionrd 
any Irss mild or scriptural methods of retbrm, it was brcausc the state 
of the muludy was found to require a severer treatment." In his tracts. 
For the Orilerof Priesthood, and the Otiice of Curates, Wickliff enters 
very tiilly into ihis snliject. 

t See Vnuglmn's Life of Wickliff, vol. i. p. 303. 



A. D. 1373.] His lectures as Professor of Divinity, 17 

Spirit, adding, " Bethink thee heartily of the wonderful kindness 
of God, who was so high and so worshipful in heaven, that he 
should come down so low and be born of the maiden, and become 
our brother, to buy us again by his hard passion, from our thral- 
dom to Satan." After describing the sufferings of Christ, he 
adds, " All this he did and suffered of his own kindness, without 
any sin of himself, that he might deliver us from sin and pain, 
and bring us to everlasting bliss. Thou shouldest also think 
constantly, how, when he had made thee of nought, thou hadst 
forsaken him, and all his kindness, through sin, and hadst taken 
thee to Satan and his service, world without end, had not Christ, 
God and man, suffered this hard death to save us. And thus, 
see the great kindness, and all other goodness, which God hath 
shown- for thee, and thereby learn thy own great unkindness; 
and thus thou shalt see that man is the most fallen of creatures, 
and the unkindest of all creatures that ever God made! It should 
be full, sweet, and delightful to us to think thus on this great 
kindness, and this great love of Jesus Christ !" Vaughan ob- 
serves of this exposition, *' We find Wycliffe zealously inculcating 
the lessons of inspiration, on the fall of man and the consequent 
depravity of human nature; on the excellence and perpetual 
obligation of the moral law; on the exclusive dependence of 
every child of Adam on the atonement of Christ for the remis- 
sion of his sins ; and for victory over temptation, and the posses- 
sion of holiness, on the aids of divine grace. It appears also that 
these momentous tenets were very far from being regarded by 
Wycliffe with the coldness of mere speculation." 

The aid which the labours of Wlckliff received from the dis- 
putes then existing between the popes and the English govern- 
ment, has been already noticed ; these differences were again 
renewed in 1373, on the subject of " provisors." The papal see 
had been accustomed to grant anticipated vacancies in the English 
church among its foreign dependents, by which ministers were 
appointed who were neither able nor willing to discharofe the 
duties of their otlice. Various legal enactments had been pre- 
viously made to meet these encroachments, and a law was passed 
whereby the election of bishops was rendered entirely independent 
of the papal sanction. 

In the year 1360, durifig the pestilence, seven English bishop- 
rics had become vacant, all of which vrere filled by aliens, under 
papal provisions, and the result of inquiry in 1376, showed that a 
very large number of the English benefices were in the hands of 
foreigners. An embassy was despatched to the continent in 1374, 
to remonstrate with the papal see on this subject; Wickliff was 
one of the delegates. Bruges was the place appointed for meet- 
ing the commissioners of the papal see : the proceedings, as usual 
in all matters of a similar nature, were protracted by every species 
of evasion; they continued nearly tvv-o years, while the conces- 
sions obtained were few and unsatisfactory. Wickliff saw enough 
during his visit to the continent, to satisfy him fully of the anti- 

2 * 



18 Wickliff.—Life. [a. d. 1375. 

christian character of the papacy. He returned from this treaty, 
like Cranmer and Luther from Rome, more than ever convinced 
of the necessity of a thorough reformation in ecclesiastical affairs. 
He now styled the pope, " antichrist, the proud, worldly priest 
of Rome, the most cursed of clippers and purse kervers." We 
find strong expressions in his subsequent writings, but when we 
refer to the corruptions of the church of Rome, and to the treat- 
ment Wickliff received from the Romish ecclesiastics, it may truly 
be said, " Was there not a cause?" 

The public attention was now awakened to the intolerable 
exactions of the popedom. A parliamentary remonstrance in 
1376 states, that the taxes paid to the pope yearly out of Eng- 
land, were five times the amount paid to the king ; also that the 
richest prince in Christendom had not the fourth part of the in- 
come received by the pope out of England. These calculations 
might well call forth the emphatic expression contained in the 
same document, " that God had committed his sheep to the pope 
to be pastured, and not to be shorn or shaven." 

In November 1375, Wickliff was presented by the king to a 
prebend in the collegiate church of Westbury, and shortly atler 
to the rectory of Lutterworth in Leicestershire, at that time in 
the royal gill by the minority of lord de Ferrars, the patron. He 
w^as speedily called to take a still more prominent part in public 
aff'iirs. 

At that period a severe political struggle existed between the 
duke of Lancaster and the leading ecclesiastics, among whom 
Courtney, bishop of London, and Wykeham of Winchester, were 
most distinguished. The particulars need not be detailed ; it is 
sufficient to say that the transactions were of a complicated nature. 
It is only to the unbounded influence of the Romish priesthood 
over the consciences of men, that we can attribute the popular 
excitement against the reformer and his friends, which the 
prelates succeeded in raising. Perhaps it is less easy to explain 
how the parliament, which assembled in 137G and 1377, should 
have been opposed both to the encroachments of the papacy 
and to the administration of the duke of J^ancaster. 

The clergy were highly displeased at proceedings against 
Fonie of their number, and at this period, for the first time, we 
find them adverting to the doctrmes of Wickliff, as calling for 
official interference. This doubtless was intended as an attack 
botli upon the doctrines of the reformer, and the power of his 
patron. 

In the convocation whicli met in February 1377,* Wickliff 
was cited to appear before his ecclesiastical superiors, to answer 
certain cliarges broiifrht against him for holding and publishing 
erroneous and heretical doctrines. A day was appointed for 
hearing his defence: the scene which ensued is thus described 
by Fox from the chronicle of St. Albans. 

* Lewis, by mistake, assigns this transaction to tlie year following. 



A. D, 1377.] His appearance before the Prelates. 19 

" When the day assigned to the said Wickliff to appear was 
come, which day was Thursday, the 19th of February,* John 
WicklifF went, ac^.companied with the duke of Lancaster, also 
four friars appointed by the duke, the better to ensure Wickliff 's 
safety, and lord Henry Percy, lord marshal of England ; lord 
Percy going before to make room and way where WickliiF 
should come. 

" Thus Wickliff, through the providence of God, being suffi- 
ciently guarded, was coming to the place where the bishops sat. 
By the way they animated and exhorted him not to fear nor 
shrink a whit at the company of the bishops there present, who 
were all unlearned, said they, in respect of him — for so proceed 
the words of my author, whom I follow in this narration ; neither 
should he dread the concourse of the people, whom they would 
themselves assist and defend, in such sort that he should take 
no harm. With these words, and with the assistance of the 
nobles, Wickliff, encouraged in heart, approached the church of 
St. Paul, where a main press of people was gathered to hear what 
should be said and done. Such was the throng of the multitude, 
that the lords, for all the puissance of the high marshal, scarcely, 
with great difficulty, could get way through. Insomuch that 
Courtney, bishop of London, seeing the stir which the lord mar- 
shal kept in the church among the people, speaking to the lord 
Percy, said. That if he had known before what masteries he 
would have kept in the church, he would have stopped him out 
from coming there. At which words of the bishop the duke dis- 
daining not a little, answered the bishop again. That he would 
keep such mastery there, though he said. Nay. 

** At last, afler much wrangling, they pierced through, and 
came to our lady's chapel, where the dukes and barons were 
sitting together with the archbishops and bishops, before whom 
John Wickliff stood, to know what should be laid unto him. To 
whom first spake the lord Percy, bidding him to sit down, saying, 
that he had many things to answer to, and therefore had need 
of some softer seat. But the bishop of London, cast eflsoons into 
a fumish chafe with those words, said. He should not sit there. 
Neither was it, said he, according to law or reason, that he, who 
was cited there to appear to answer before his ordinary, should 
sit down during the time of his answer, but he should stand. 
Upon these words a fire began to heat and kindle between them. 
Insomuch that they began so to rate and revile one the other, 
that the whole multitude, therewith disquieted, began to be set 
on a hurry. 

" Then the duke, taking the lord Percy's part, with hasty 
words began also to take up the bishop. To whom the bishop 
again, nothing inferior in reproachful checks and rebukes, did 
render and requite, not only to him as good as he brought, but 
also did so far excel him in this railing art of scolding, that, to 

* A. D. 1377. 



20 Wicklif.—Life. [a. d. 1377. 

use the words of mine author, the duke blushed and was ashamed, 
because he could not overpass the bishop in brawling and rail- 
ing*, lie tlieretbre tell to plain threatening, menacing the bishop, 
that lie would bring down the pride not only of him, but also of 
all the prelacy of England. Speaking moreover unto him ; Thou, 
said he, bearest tiiyself so brag upon thy parents, which shall not 
be able to help thee ; they shall have enough to do to help them- 
selves. His parents were the earl and countess of Devonshire. 
To whom the bishop again answered, that to be bold to tell truth, 
his coniidence was not in his parents, nor in any man else, but 
only in God in whom he trusted. Then the duke sotlly whisper- 
ing in the ear of him next by him, said, that he would rather 
pluck the bishop by the hair of his head out of the church, than 
he would take this at his hand. This was not spoken so secretly, 
but that the Londoners overheard him. Whereupon, being set 
in rage, they cried out, saying, that they would not suffer their 
bishop so contemptuously to be abused, but rather they would 
lose their lives, than that he should be so drawn out by the hair. 
Thus the council being broken with scolding and brawling for 
that day, was dissolved before nine of the clock." 

Some proceedings having been taken by the duke and lord 
Percy, which affected the liberties of the citizens, a tumult en- 
sued on the day following. Information was brought to the duke 
at the Savoy, of the approach of the infuriated Londoners. The 
duke " being then at his oysters, without any further tarrying, 
and also breaking both his shins at a form for haste," took boat 
with the lord Percy, and by water went to Richmond, where the 
princess regent was, with Richard, the young king. By her in- 
terference the Londoners were compelled to humble themselves, 
and to make a great taper of wax with the duke's arms upon it, 
at the charge of the city, which was carried in procession, and 
placed in the chapel of our Lady, in St. Paul's, to burn before 
the image of the virgin ! 

From February to October, 1377, Wickliff seems to have 
been occupied in discharging his duties as rector and professor. 
During this interval Edward III. died. The accession of Richard 
II. was followed by a diminution of the influence of .John of 
Gaunt, but the opposition to the papal claims was not less de- 
cided. Amongst other subjects, the next parliament seriously 
discussed whether it would not be lawful for the kinjTfdom, in 
case of necessity, and as a moans of its defence, to detain its 
treasure, that it be not conveyed to foreign nations, though the 
])ope himself should demand the same under pain of his censures, 
and by virtue of obedience said to be due to him. An answer 
to this (juestion would not now be considered any matter of 
doubt or difficulty, but at that time it was a perplexing subject. 
In fact it involved most important questions, both of a civil and 
a religious nature. Under this dilemma the ojiinion of Wickliff 
was requested. In his reply he discarded the opinions and 
decisions of civilians, or otiier human authorities, lie considered 



A. D. 1377.] Papal bulls against him. ^1 

the proper reference to be " to the principles of the law of 
Christ." The nature of the pope's demands sufficiently indicate 
the result of such an appeal ! 

The doctrines of Wickliff were now publicly known. The 
ecclesiastics had not remained indifferent to the consequences, 
as affecting their interests and their power. A number of his 
opinions were censured by the pope, and in June 1377, bulls 
were issued, addressed to the archbishop of Canterbury, the 
bishop of London, the king', and the university of Oxford, in 
which the pope required that Wickliff should be seized and im- 
prisoned under the papal authority, that his confession should 
be received, distinct information of his tenets obtained, and that 
he should be detained in custody until further instructions were 
sent concerning him. If he were not apprehended, citations 
were to be issued, commanding his attendance before the pope 
within three months ; the utmost care was to be taken to prevent 
the king and the nobility from being defiled with his errors. 
The bulls, however, were not made public till after the parli- 
amentary proceeding just mentioned. 

These harsh mandates, it will be observed, treat Wickliff as a 
criminal already condemned ; the prelates were merely to inform 
themselves privately whether Wickliff had taught the doctrines 
imputed to him. Such was the inquisitorial policy of the Romish 
ecclesiastics! The university of Oxford did not receive this 
bull without considerable hesitation, though accompanied by an 
especial letter from the pope, lamenting that tares were suffered 
to grow up among the pure wheat in that seat of learning, and 
even to grow ripe, without any care being applied to root them 
up. Not the smallest intention of placing Wickliff in the power 
of his enemies was manifested by the heads of the university. 
Archbishop Sudbury, however, wrote to the chancellor, enjoining 
him to cite Wickliff to appear before his superiors, and early in 
1378, the reformer attended a synod at Lambeth. The duke of 
Lancaster no longer retained his political povv^er, but the deep 
impression Wickliff's doctrines had made upon the people was 
now apparent. Considerable crowds surrounded the place ; 
many forced an entrance, openly declaring their attachment to 
the reformer ; and sir Lewis Clifford, in the name of the queen 
mother, forbad the bishops from proceeding to any definitive 
sentence. 

On this occasion Wickliff delivered a written statement of 
his opinions, which has been unfairly represented as an artful 
attempt to evade the consequences of his doctrines by apologies 
and explanations. This is not correct : — many things had been 
laid to his charge which he knew not; some were utterly false, 
while other opinions he had not yet maintained. To attempt an 
explanation of his real views was, therefore, a proof of in- 
genuousness rather than of artifice; and it is by no means 
certain that this document has come down to us without muti- 
lation from his enemies. Yet, if the whole be attended to, and 



22 Wickllf.—Llfc. [a. d. 1378. 

allowance bo made for the scholastic forms of argument, from 
which Wicklitf had not been emancipated, his statements will 
not be considered as evasive. These articles are given at length by- 
Lewis, from Walsingham, and are fully abstracted by Vaughan. 
If the reader finds less distinct reference than he expected to 
the great truths of the Christian faith, he must not be surprised. 
In controversy, the Romish church has usually kept these all 
important subjects out of sight ; or rather they are admitted in 
form, while in effect they are denied. The points controverted 
with Wick] iff chiefly related to the authority of the pope and 
the powers of the priesthood ; the doctrine of transubstantiation 
was the great subject of inquiry in the sixteenth century. Few, 
excepting Luther and Fox, succeeded in bringing their opix^nents 
into direct discussion upon the point which in fact was the main 
subject at issue, namely, whether salvation was to be obtained 
only by faith in Christ, or whether other mediators and means of 
remission of sin were to be looked to. Of Wickliff 's explana- 
tions it will suffice to say, that so far from having made decided 
statements, and retracted them by subsequent explanations, lie 
repeated in his subsequent treatises the sentiments deemed most 
obnoxious, while he ever professed liis readiness to retract, if 
his conclusions were proved to be opposed to the faith.*' 

The papal authority at this time suffered from other causes in 
addition to the attacks of the advocates of reformation. On the 
death of pope Gregory XI. in Alarch 1378, a schism took place 
which exhibited the church of Rome with two, and sometimes 
with three difierent heads at the same time ; each pretending to 
infallibility, and all denouncing curses against their opponents, 
in most awful terms. | To the death of Gregory XI. a^l(l these 
distractions, the escape of Wicklifi' from the vengeance of llie 
clergy, may partly be attributed. The general ieeling of the 
necessity for reformation was also promoted, and Wickliff was 
not wanting in exertions to expose the vain and wicked preten- 
sions of these unchristian pretenders to infallibility. In a tract 
entitled, ** On the scliism of the popes,*' he made a direct attack 
ujKJU the papal usurpations. 

Amidst these labours and persecutions Wickliff was assailed 
by sickness. While at Oxford he was confined to his chamber, 
and reports of his approaching dissolution were circulated. The 
mendicants considered this to be a favourable opportunity for 

* Vaughan has shown that the writings in which Wifkliff iisfd more 
dcc.idrd t'Xprcssiuns Hiiainst tlie paj)aty, wwc not wriiicn till (i/Ur this 
period. Tills is iiHj)ortnnt, as provini: that WickHtV ilA Dot resort to 
fM|nivucation or evasion, but that, like I.uthrr, his views l>ernnie ch arer 
as his opinions were ealled in (iiuslion. " Home was not denounced as 
nntichrisit till Rome had beeume his prosecutor." 

t Plaiina, the Romish historian, says, " In the time of Urban VI. arose 
the '2.1d (or CGth) schism, of all schisms the worst, and the mn ' - — '" ■. 
For it was so intricate that not even the most learned and c< - 

were able to decide to which of the pretenders ihcy were to • 1 

it continued lo tJie time of Martin V." (more than forty years.; 



A. D. 1378.] His sickness and recovery. 23 

obtaining a recantation of his declarations against them. Per- 
haps they concluded that the sick-bed of VVickiifF would resemble 
many others they had witnessed, and that their power would be 
there felt and acknowledged. A doctor from each of the pri- 
vileged orders of beggars, attended by some of the civil autho- 
rities of the city, entered the chamber of WicklifF. They at 
first expressed sympathy for his sufferings, with hopes for his 
recovery. They then suggested that he must be aware of the 
wrongs the mendicants had experienced from him, especially by 
his sermons, and other writings ; as death now appeared at hand, 
they concluded that he must have feelings of compunction on 
this account; therefore they expressed their hope that he would 
not conceal his penitence, but distinctly recall whatever he had 
hitherto said against them. 

The suffering reformer listened to this address unmoved. 
When it was concluded, he made signs for his attendants to 
raise him in his bed, then fixing his eyes on the mendicants, he 
summoned all his rema.ining strength, and loudly exclaimed, " I 
siiall not die, but live, and sliall again declare the evil deeds of 
the friars." The appalled doctors, with their attendants, hurried 
from the room, and they speedily found the prediction fulfilled. 
The scene would afford a striking subject for an able artist. 

While Wickliff strongly censured the fabulous legends and 
crafly delusions practised by these orders, he by no means ne- 
glected the means of usefulness they so much misapplied. He 
was not less distinguished as a preacher, than as a theologian 
or a controversialist. Milton well speaks of Wickliff's preaching, 
as a saving light at which succeeding reformers effectually 
lighted their tapers. 

Nearly three hundred of his sermons have escaped the destruc- 
tion to which his writings were subjected. The plain simplicity 
of their language and style show that he was not less fitted for 
the humble, yet important station, of a village pastor, than for 
the office of ambassador to the pope, or to consider matters of 
state referred to him by the highest authorities of the land. 
That he was an active preacher is evident, and there can be no 
doubt but that he discharged the other duties of his function . 
according to what he has himself pointed out to be the duty of the 
Christian man, " to visit those who are sick, or who are in trouble, 
especially those whom God hath made needy by age, or by other 
sickness, as the feeble, the blind, and the lame, who are in 
poverty. These thou shalt relieve with thy goods after thy 
power, and afler their need, for thus biddeth the gospel." Upon 
the importance of preaching, in all ages of the church, it is un- 
necessary to enlarge, but certainly it was peculiarly important 
in those times, when little but oral instruction could be imparted, 
and the invention of printing was unknown. 

Wickliff's sermons are seldom to be considered as essays upon 
particular subjects ; frequently they are only sketches, or heads 
of his discourses, but they are almost invariably what were then 



24 Wickliff.^Life. [a. d. 1383. 

called postills — discourses founded upon passag-es of scripture, 
the various parts of which are considered in succession. This 
method was most usual, both in tlie primitive church and among 
the reformers who followed Wickliff. In general, the discourses 
are founded upon the gospel, the epistle, or the lesson for the 
day, and are supposed to have been delivered at Lutterworth, 
during the eight years he was rector of that place. They are 
strictly of a popular character, as will be seen by the specimens 
in the present volume. In one of these discourses he speaks of 
the labours of Christ and his apostles as teachers. They are 
touched upon in a manner which shows that he recommended 
similar proceedings in the times in which he lived, and the testi- 
monies of historians inform us that the teachers among the 
Lollards went about in this manner, testifying of the things of 
the kingdom of heaven. He says, "The gospel teileth us the 
duty which falls to all the disciples of Christ, and also teileth us 
how priests, both high and low, should occupy themselves in the 
church of God and in serving him. And first, Jesus himself did 
indeed the lessons which he taught. The gospel relates how 
Jesus went about in the places of the country, both great and 
small, as in cities and castles, or small towns, and this to teach 
us to profit generally unto men, and not to forbear to preach to a 
people because they are few, and our name may not, in conse- 
quence, be great. For we should labour for God, and from him 
hope for our reward. There ib no doubt that Christ went into 
small uplandish towns, as to Bethphago, and Cana in Galilee ; for 
Christ went to all those places where he wished to do good. And 
he laboured not thus for gain, for he was not smitten either with 
j)ride or with covetousness." In another discourse he says, "It 
was ever the manner of Jesus to speak the words of God, where- 
cvcr he knew that they would be profitable to others who heard 
them : and hence Christ often preached, now at meat, and now at 
supper, and indeed at whatever time it was convenient for others 
to hear him." 

Another still more important labour of WicklifF claims our 
attention — Iiis tran.slation of the scriptures into the Enirlish 
tongue, wliich occupied him for many years. It was completed 
in l^i^3. The first honour of this great undortaking clearly 
belongs to Wicklift', and no event recorded in the annals of our 
land can be compared with it for importance. The attempts 
made by others had neither been numerous nor extensive. They 
were only versions of the psalms and some other portions of 
sacred writ, and detract not from the lalx^ur or merit of Wicklifl^'s 
performance.* A well-known passage from the historical work 
of Knighton, a canon of Leicester, the contemporary of Wickliff, 
contains evidence upon this subject too decisive not to be re- 
peated here. lie says, " Christ delivered his gospel to the 

* TIio Rov. II. Bal)er's account of the En<ilish and Saxon versions of 
the scriptures, contains much valuable information upon this subject. 



A. D. 1383.] His translation of the scriptures. 25 

clergy and doctors of the church, that they might administer to 
the laity and to weaker persons, according to the state of the 
times, and the wants of man. But this master John Wickliff 
translated it out of Latin into English, and thus laid it more 
open to the laity, and to women who can read, than it formerly 
had been to the most learned of the clergy, even to those of 
them who had the best understanding. And in this way the 
gospel pearl is cast abroad, and trodden under foot of swine, and 
that which was before precious both to clergy and laity, is 
rendered as it were the connnon jest of both ! The jewel of the 
church is turned into the sport of the people, and what was 
hitherto the principal gift of the clergy and divines, is made for 
ever common to the laity." 

The cautious EngJish historian of modern Romanists ex- 
presses the same opinion as Knighton, though in more guarded 
language. He says, " Wickliff made a new translation, (of 
the scriptures,) multiplied the copies with the aid of transcribers, 
and by his ' poor priests,' recommended it to the perusal of their 
hearers. In their hands it became an engine of wonderful 
power. Men were flattered by the appeal to their private judg- 
ment; the new doctrines insensibly acquired partisans and 
protectors in the higher classes, who alone were acquainted 
with the use of letters ; a spirit of inquiry was generated, and 
the seeds were sown of that religious revolution, which in little 
more than a century astonished and convulsed the nations of 
Europe," 

In conformity to these apprehensions, the advocates of the 
church of Rome have ever denounced, in terms more or less 
measured, all attempts to communicate to the people m their 
own tongues, the wonderful works of God for the salvation of 
a guilty world. The diffusion of this light and knowledge, 
they well know, will certainly bring the fabric of ecclesiastical 
domination to the dust, and therefore the church of Rome has 
EVER objected to allow free perusul of the scriptures to the 
laity. 

But a spirit of inquiry had been awakened, and Wickliff well 
knew that no method could be devised so effectual for making 
men wise unto salvation, as to supply them with the scriptures. 
What assistance he had in this work is not known, but it is 
evident that copies were multiplied with a rapidity which we 
can hardly appreciate at the present day. 

From the register of Alnwick, bishop of Norwich, in 1429, 
it appears that the cost of a testament of Wickliff 's version, 
was 21. 16s. Sd. (equal to more than 20^. of our present money.) 
At that time five pounds were considered a sufficient allowance 
for the annual maintenance of a tradesman, yeoman, or a curate. 
In the persecution under bishop Longland, in 1521, when severe 
penalties, perhaps death, followed the merely possessing such 
a work, the accusation against one man was his having paid 

WICKLIFF. 3 



26 Wicklif.—Life. [a. d. 1381. 

twenty shillings for a bible in English, probably only some 
detached books. 

Tiiis translation was made from the Latin vulgate. Scarcely 
any persons then were acquainted with the original languages 
of the scriptures. Wickliff took considerable pains to collect 
copies, and procured as correct a text as possible for his version. 

The circulation of the P^nn^lish scriptures was so offensive to 
the clergy, that in 1390 the prelates brought forward a bill in 
the house of lords, for suppressing Wickliff 's translations. The 
duke of Lancaster is said to have interfered on this occasion, 
boldly declaring, " We will not be the dregs of all, seeing that 
other nations have the law of God, which is the law of our 
faith, written in their own language." He added that he would 
maintain our having the divine law in our own tongue, against 
those, whoever they should be, who first brought in the bill. 
The duke being seconded by others, the bill was thrown out. 
Three years previously, in 1387, a severe statute had been 
revived at Oxford, which is thus described in a prologue for the 
p]nglish bible, written by one of Wickliff's followers: "Alas, 
the greatest abomination that ever was heard among Christian 
clerks is now purposed in England by worldly clerks and 
feigned religious, and in the chief university of our realm, as 
many true men tell with great wailing. This horrible and 
devilish cursedness is purposed of Christ's enemies, and traitors 
of all Christian people, that no man shall learn divinity, or holy 
writ, but he that hath done his form in art, that is, who hath 
commenced in arts, and hath been regent two years aller. 
Tims it would be nine or ten years before he might learn holy 
writ." 

The subsequent and more successful endeavours of the Romish 
clergy to prevent the circulation of the English scriptures will 
be noticed in the account of the followers of Wickliff. 

In 1381, the troubles broke out among the commons, known 
as the insurrections of Wat Tyler and others. A very slight 
acquaintance with the history of England sufficiently explains 
the causes of tlieso tumultuary proceedings, which were wholly 
unconnected with the doctrines or labours of W^ickliff, who in his 
writings stronirly nrnfod the due subordination of different ranks 
of nion. Nor should it be fbrL'"otten that tumults of a far more 
sanguinary description, and marked by deeper atrocities, had 
about this p(^ri()d raged in France and Flanders, where the doc- 
trines of our reformer were unknown. Froissart, a contemporary 
liistorian, attributes tlie ])roceedinirs of the English insurgents 
to the example set tiiem on the continent. Otlier atrocious 
deeds, perpetrated as national acts in neighbouring countries, 
witiiin our own recollection, might be refcTred to, were it at all 
needful to show that tr.mults and rebellions are not the results 
of opposition to popery;* but it ever has been a favourite plan 

* Vaiighan has examined this subject veir fully. He relates several 
instances of tumultuary insurrections evidently proceeding from the fana- 



A. D. 13S1.] He opposes Transuhstantiation, 27 

of that church, to endeavour dexterously to fasten upon its ad- 
versaries the blame which properly appertains to itself. 

Wickliff's opposition to the dogma of transuhstantiation is 
now to be noticed. This doctrine was first openly maintained 
in the west, by Radbert, a French monk in the ninth century, 
but it was not fully sanctioned by the church of Rome till the 
third Lateran council, under Innocent III. in 1215. So doubt- 
ful had the popes been at first respecting this doctrine, that one 
of them feigned a revelation from the virgin in opposition to it. 

One of the Saxon homilies thus states the doctrine held by 
the early English church upon this subject: "Much (difference) 
is between the body Christ suffered in, and the body hallowed 
to housell, (the sacrament;) this latter being only his spiritual 
body gathered of many corns, without blood or bone, without 
limb, without soul; and therefore nothing is to be understood 
therein bodily, but all is to be spiritually understood." 

Transuhstantiation was not held by the Anglo-Saxon church, 
but had been introduced after the Norman conquest, by Lan- 
franc, archbishop of Canterbury. Wickliff" had touched upon 
this subject in some of his treatises, the most popular of which, 
his " Wicket," forms a part of the present volume, but he brought 
his views forward with increased activity in his divinity lectures 
during the spring of 1331, when he published a series of con- 
clusions in which he called the attention of members of the 
university to the subject. In these he stated that " the con- 
secrated host, which we see upon the altar, is neither Christ nor 
any part of him, but an effectual sign of him." On these con- 
clusions Wickliff* offered to dispute publicly. 

In his Trialogus, (lib. iv. ch. 7.) Wickliff represents Satan as 
reasoning thus respecting transuhstantiation. " Should I once 
so far beguile the faithful of the church, by the aid of antichrist 
my vicegerent, as to persuade them to deny that this sacrament 
is bread, and to induce them to regard it merely as an accident ; 
there will be nothing then which I may not bring them to re- 
ceive, since there can be nothing more opposite to the scriptures 
or to common discernment. Let the life of a prelate then be 
what it may, let him be guilty of luxury, simony, or murder, 
the people may be led to believe that really he is no such man ; 
nay, they may then be persuaded to admit, that the pope is in- 

ticism of popeiy- The real cause of the tumults in England, probably, 
was rightly stated by the parliament : " These injuries, lately done to the 
poorer commons, more than they ever suffered before, caused them to 
rise and to commit the mischief done in the late riot." 

The Romish ecclesiastics also were guilty of considerable oppression. 
Wickliff in. one of his tracts complains that, "Where in many abbeys 
should be, and sometimes were, great houses to harbour poor men there- 
in, now they are follen down, or made swine cotes, stables, or bark 
houses ; and the abbots iTiake costly feasts, waste many goods on lords 
and rich men, suffering poor men to starve, and perish for hunger and 
other mischiefs." Lewis adds, " So far were the religious at that time 
from relieving all the poor of the nation at their gates." 



28 WlcJdif,—Life, [a. d. 13S2. 

fallible, at least with respect to the matters of Christian faith, 
and that, inasmuch as lie is known by the name of Most Holy 
Father, he is of course free from sin." How completely had the 
powerful mind of VV^ickliff discerned the dreadful consequences 
of this monstrous doctrine, which represents a piece of bread as 
containing^ the flesh and blood, and even the soul and divme na- 
ture of our blessed Lord ! 

A convention of Romish doctors speedily assembled; the doc- 
trines of VVicklift* were condemned, as may easily be supposed. 
Sentences of excommunication and imprisonment were ful- 
minated against all members of the university who should teach 
his tenets, or even be convicted of listening to arguments in de- 
fence of them. 

This assembly was held in private; its determination was 
communicated to Wick) iff while engaged in lecturing his pu- 
pils. He paused for a moment, and tlien again challenged his 
opponents to a fair discussion of the subject; declaring that if 
attempts were made to silence him by force, he would appeal to 
the king for protection. 

Courtney, who had been recently appointed archbishop of Can- 
terbury, in May, I'^S'J, called a synod to consider respecting 
certain strange and dangerous opinions then widely diffused, 
among both tlie nobility and the commons of England. His 
well-known hatred to Wickliff sufhciently indicated the objects 
in view. The synod was held at the Grey Friars, in London, It 
had scarcely assembled when the city was shaken by an earth- 
quiike, which the members interpreted as evidence of the divine 
displeasure at the objects for which they were then collected. 
But Courtney was not a slave to superstitious fears; "he com- 
lortod them hy ])ntting them in mind that they should not be 
slothful in the cause of the church, that the earthquake in reality 
portended a cleansing of the kingdom from heresies. For as air 
and noxious spirits are shut up in the bowels of the earth, which 
are expelled in an earthquake, and so the earth is cleansed, but 
not without great violence, so there were many iieresies shut up 
in the jirartsof reprobate men, but by the condemnation of them 
the kingdonj has been cleared, but not without irksomeness and 
great commotion." 

TIh' assembled divines were thus reassured, and the conclu- 
sions imputed to Wicklif! were condeumed as erroneous and 
heretical. The .sentence denoimced against all who should 
hold, preach, or defend his tenets, was promulgated \yit|i the 
usual solemnities, and addressed to all places subject to the see 
of (yanterbury. These fulminations were communicated to the 
university of Oxford, but the chancellor and many of its lead- 
ing members were attached to the reformer, and the public 
discourse before the university highly commended the character 
and doctrines of Wickliff. 

The state of public affairs strengthened the cffbrts of the 
clergy ; a few months before, tbey had procured the enactment 



A. D. 1382.] Enactments against the Lollards, 29 

of a law by the parliament, which provided for the punishment 
of those who preached what the ecclesiastics denominated 
heresy. The preamble of the statute evidently refers to the 
labours of the followers of Wickliff, and to the promulgation 
of such doctrines as he advanced. They were extensively 
diffused ; a contemporary historian represents every second 
person in the kingdom as infected with his heresies, and in 
Wickliff 's confession respecting the sacrament, he implies that 
a third part of the clergy held similar opinions. 

The statute sets tbrth, that divers evil persons went from 
county to county, and town to town, in certain habits, under 
dissimulation of great holiness, without license of the ordinaries 
or other autliorities, preaching daily, not only in churches and 
church-yards, but also in markets, fairs, and other open places, 
where great congregations were assembled, divers sermons 
containing heresies and notorious errors, &c. &c. It was 
therefore enacted, tliat all such preachers, and also their 
favourers, maintainers, and abettors, should be " arrested, and 
held in strong prison," till they "justify themselves according 
to the law and reason of holy church," before the prelates. 

This law was passed by the lords, but never had the assent 
of the commons, so that in reality it was both informal and 
invalid. In the following October it was revoked and laid 
aside ; but the archbishop procured letters patent from the 
king, whereby he and his suffragans were authorized to detain 
all such offenders in their own prisons, and by the artifices of 
the prelate, the act of repeal was suppressed. This was the 
commencement of a series of bloody enactments, whereby the 
consciences of Englishmen were enthralled, and the best and 
holiest characters of the land were subjected to the severest 
persecution and most horrible cruelties. No traces of such 
laws appear previously on our statute book, and these notoriously 
emanated from the Romish priesthood, on feeling their craft to 
be in danger. It is evident that they proceeded not from the 
peculiar opinions of that day, or the maxims of state policy 
then prevalent, but entirely from the fiend-like desire of the 
popish ecclesiastics to persecute for conscience sake. 

Courtney having arranged his machinery for persecution, 
summoned Rigge, the chancellor of Oxford, and Brightwell, 
one of his doctors, to answer for their late conduct respecting 
Hereford and Rippington, who had advocated the cause of 
Wickliff. After some hesitation, they were induced to assent 
to the articles lately sanctioned by the synod. The chancellor 
was enjoined to search for Wickliff, Hereford, Rippington, 
Ashton, and Redman, and by ecclesiastical censures, and 
canonical penalties to compel them to abjure. Meanwhile, the 
archbishop proceeded in his prosecution of Hereford and Ashton ; 
the former had assisted Wickliff in his translation of the scrip- 
tures, the latter was well known throughout the kingdom as a 
laborious and successful preacher of the gospel. 



%> 



30 Wicklif.—Life. 

Wickliff then resided at Lutterworth. In one of his sermons 
he refers to these persecutions. Speaking of Courtney as " the 
great bishop of England, who is incensed because God's law is 
written in English to unlearned men," he adds, " He pursueth 
a certain priest because he writeth to men this English, and 
summoneth him, and travaileth him, so that it is hard for him 
to bear it. And thus he pursueth another priest, by the help 
of Pharisees, because he preacheth Christ's gospel freely, with- 
out fables." Hereford appears to have escaped from the " bitter- 
ness of death," probably through the influence of the duke of 
Lancaster, but he, outwardly at least, reconciled himself to his 
opponents, as he was among the clergy who, in 1391, sat in 
judgment upon one of the Lollards, named Walter Brute, though 
he still retained an attachment to the doctrines of Wickliftl\ 
Rippington acted in a similar manner, but Ashton died as he 
had lived, a follower of the truth, before the clergy had pro- 
ceeded so far as openly to bring the Lollards to the stake. The 
accounts respecting tiiese men, however, are contradictory, and 
their enemies appear to have attributed to them greater con- 
cessions than they really made, a practice not unfrequent with 
the church of Rome. Some further particulars respecting them 
will be found in another part of this work. 

The conduct of the clergy, and the means they had recourse 
to, are thus described by Wickliff' in one of his discourses at 
this period. *' Our high priests and our religious fear them, 
lest God's law, after all they have done, should be quickened. 
Therefore make they statutes stable as a rock, and they obtain 
grace (fiivour) of knights to confirm them, and this they mark 
well with the witness of lords, and all lest the truth of God's 
law should break out to the knowing of the common people. 
Well I know, that knights have taken gold in this case, to help 
that thy law may be thus hid, and thine ordinances consumed." 

Wickliff' saw the storm gathering fast, while increasing age 
and infirmities rendered him less able to counteract the pro- 
ceedings of his adver.-aries. He knew not how soon the blow 
might be struck. Thus situated, he resolved to appeal to the 
king and parliament, in the form of a petition. This document 
contains opinions for which some protestant writers have too 
hastily been inclined to ci'nsure the reformer, without consider- 
ing the situation in which matters then stood, or the characters 
whom Wicklilf denounced as worldly priests and of the con- 
grejration of Satan. 

The proceedings against Wickliff are not very clearly stated ; 
but it appears that in 1:^8*2, a council of prelates and clergy was 
lield in the church of the preaching friars at liondon as already 
mentioned, and a similar council was afferwards assembled at 
Oxford, to take measures for remedying certain disorders which 
were extending rapidly through the wliole conununity. Court- 
ney having made the requisite preparations, Wickliff' was sum- 
moned to appear, that he might answer for his opinions. The 



A. D. 1382.] Condemned by a council at Oxford. 31 

Romish prelate laid his plans, so as to deprive Wickliff of the 
support and countenance he haid hitherto received. While the 
nobility opposed the church on points of worldly interest, they 
gladly encouraged Wickliff in his opposition, though it originated 
trom higher sources than those of a secular nature ; but at this 
critical period, the duke of Lancaster felt that it was his in- 
terest to avoid further hostilities with the clergy, and as Court- 
ney had placed the matters at issue on points of doctrine, the 
duke advised Wickliff to submit to the prelates in all points of 
that nature. Here human aid failed the reformer, as might be 
expected. The v/orld may contend upon subjects of a religious 
nature, when interest is concerned, but not when there is reason 
to expect only trouble and loss for so doing. 

Had Wickliff then shrunk from the contest — had he sacrificed 
the truth to avoid the risk of encountering his adversaries, there 
might have been some ground for characterising him as a poli- 
tical reformer, even though the hesitation had proceeded from 
age and infirmity rather than from any other source. But he 
shrunk not. The Romish historian Walsingham, who is ever 
desirous to cast any disgrace he can upon the reformer, repre- 
sents him as equally withstanding the comm^ands of the duke, and 
the threats of the primate. He says, that Wickliff in publicly 
defending his doctrines on the sacrament of the altar, " like an 
obstinate heretic, refuted all the doctors of the second mil- 
lenary." * Wickliff did not consider the doctrine of transub- 
stantiation to be a mere dogma of the schools, he viewed it as a 
worshipping of the creature more than the Creator, and per- 
ceived all its attendant consequences, of setting up will-worship, 
and other mediators than the Lord Jesus Christ. 

The assembly convoked at Oxford, by whom Wickliff's doc- 
trines were condemned, was numerous and eminent for rank 
and authority. He stood alone in the place w^here he once had 
delivered the doctrines of truth to approving auditories, but now 
he was forsaken. With the aposle Paul he might have said, 
"At mine answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook 
me." With that apostle he experienced that the Lord stood by 
him, and strengthened him, and he was delivered out of the 
mouth of the lion. His defence, as we have seen, was such as 
to demand praise from his adversaries, and his written confes- 
sions recapitulated his former views upon the subject. There 
were two — one in Latin, in w^hich he argued the subject after 
the scholastic method, the other in English, which he drew up 
so as to be intelligible to the people.f 

Courtney and his associates probably felt at a loss how to act 
towards the reformer. As yet they had not found any who re- 
sisted unto blood, nor had they arrived at the decision with which 
their successors put the summary requisition, " Turn or burn." 

* The writers subsequent to the first thousand years after Christ, 
t For this confession, see p. 46. 



32 WickUf.^Life. 

They appear at that time to have contented themselves with ter- 
minating WicklilF's connexion with the university of Oxford. 
A mandate from the king was addressed to the vice-chancellor, 
dated July, 1382, ordering the expulsion of Wickliif and his 
adherents from the university, within seven days. Probably the 
increasing age and infirmities of the reformer indicated his 
speedy removal from this world, and inclined his enemies to 
suspend more violent and unpopular measures. 

The next proceeding was a summons from the pope ordering 
WicklifF to appear before him at Rome. He was too much 
afflicted with paralysis to undertake such a journey, even had it 
been a desirable plan for him to adopt. He addressed a letter 
to the pope, professing his faith, expressing his willingness to 
retract any opinions which might be proved to be erroneous, and 
his hope that personal appearance before the pontiff would not 
be insisted upon. 

Although WicklifF was excluded from Oxford, and age ad- 
vanced rapidly upon him, he did not cease to labour for the wel- 
fare of the souls of men. His translation of the scriptures was 
completed about this period. The greater part also of his tracts 
and sermons appear to have been composed during the latter 
years of his life. They were written out, and circulated with 
avidity — the numerous copies of his writings yet remaining, 
show the extent to which they must have been transcribed, 
especially when we consider that the Romish clergy destroyed 
not a few. 

Among these pieces is an address written against the friars, 
in which, commenting on the text, " Beware of the leaven of 
the Pharisees which is hypocrisy,*' Wickliff directs against the 
followers of St. Francis and St. Dominic of that day, the cen- 
sures addressed to the pharisces of Judea of old. The reformer's 
feelings of abhorrence at the proceedings of the mendicants, had 
been renewed by their activity in behalf of pope Urban against 
his opponent pope Clement. Each of the popes endeavoured to 
stimulate his adherents to take up arms against his rival, by the 
same promises of spiritual blessings, and the same denunciations 
of divine wrath, as liad been used to obtain supporters to the 
crusades, or military expeditions for the recovery of the holy 
land from the infidels. These military expeditions were repre- 
sented as equally meritorious, and were designated by the same 
title, while all the nefarious practices employed in support of 
the crusades were employed on the present occasion. The 
bishop of Norwich raised a considerable army by the bulls of pope 
Urban, promising full remission of sins, and a place in paradise 
to all who assisted his cause by money or in person ! This mi- 
litary prelate hoaded his troops, and invaded France, by which 
kingdom pope Clement was supported. But his campaign was 
unsuccessful : he returned to England in a few months with 
the scanty remains of his army, and was tlie subject of general 
derision. 



A. D. 1382.] His perilous situation^ and death, 33 

Against such proceedings WicklifF spoke boldly. He says, 
" Christ is a good shepherd, for he puts his own life for the sav- 
ing of the sheep. But antichrist is a ravening wolf, for he ever 
does the reverse, putting many thousand lives for his own 
wretched life. By forsaking things which Christ has bid his 
priests forsake, he might end all this strife. Why is he not a 
fiend stained foul with homicide, who, though a priest, fights in 
such a cause ? If manslaying in others be odious to God, much 
more in priests who should be the vicars of Christ. And I am 
certain that neither the pope, nor all the men of his council, 
can produce a spark of reason to prove that he should do this." 
WicklifF speaks of the two popes, as fighting, one against the 
other, with the most blasphemous leasmgs (or falsehoods) that 
ever sprang out of hell. But " they were occupied," he adds, 
** many years before in blasphemy, and in sinning against God 
and his church. And this made them to sin more, as an amb- 
ling blind horse, when he beginneth to stumble, continues to 
stumble until he casts himself down." Several passages written 
by WicklifF at this time, express his condemnation of all warfare 
unless in self-defence, and as sanctioned by the new testament. 
The scenes of slaughter, cruelty, and profligacy, occasioned by 
this papal schism, are related by historians. 

The danger incurred by WicklifF in his proceedings, now 
was greater than ever, but he pursued his course with stedfast- 
ness to the last. " The language of his conduct" has been well 
described, as being to this effect ; " To live, and to be silent is 
with me impossible — the guilt of such treason against the Lord 
of heaven is more to be dreaded than many deaths. Let the 
blow therefore fall. Enough I know of the men whom I op- 
pose, of the times on which I am thrown, and of the mysterious 
providence which relates to our sinful race, to expect that the 
stroke will ere long descend. But my purpose is unalterable ; 
I wait its coming." "^ 

The stroke, however, w^as stayed ; the duke of Lancaster still 
acted as the patron of Wickliff, the popes were occupied by 
their mutual contests, the political distractions of England ab- 
sorbed the attention of all the leading characters, and Wickliff 
w^as permitted to pass the short remainder of his days without 
interruption from the hand of violence. He had also a constant 
patroness in Anne of Bohemia, queen of Richard H., w^ho was 
eminent for her piety and blameless conduct. For two years 
previously to his decease, Wickliff was paralytic, and had the 
assistance of a curate named Purvey, who partook of his mas- 
ter's sentiments, but he continued himself to officiate. It is 
said that he was engaged in distributing the bread of the Lord's 
supper, when seized with the last and fatal attack of paralysis. 
He was at once deprived of consciousness and the power of 
speech. Atl:er a brief struggle, his spirit lefl the earth, and 

* Vauglian ii. p. 257. 



34 Wicklif.—Life, 

found a joyful refug-e in another and a better world. He was 
taken ill on the 29th, and died on the 31st of December, 1384. 

Wickliff was buried in peace, but in the year 1415 the coun- 
cil of Constance ordered his remains to be disinterred, and cast 
forth from consecrated gfround. This was not enforced till 1428, 
when by command of the pope, tbrty-four years after his inter- 
ment, his bones were digged up, and burnt to ashes, which were 
then cast into the brook hard by. Fox observes, " And so was 
he resolved into three elements, earth, fire, and water ; they 
thinking thereby to abolish both the name and doctrine of 
Wickliff for ever. Not much unlike to the example of the old 
Pharisees and sepulchre knights, who when they had brought 
the Lord to the grave, thought to make him sure never to rise 
again. But these and all others must know, that as there is no 
council against the Lord ; so there is no keeping down of 
verity, but it will spring and come out of dust and ashes, as 
appeared right well in this man. For though they digged up 
his body, burned his bones, and drowned his ashes, yet the word 
of God and truth of his doctrine, with the fruit and success 
thereof they could not burn, which yet to this day, for the 
most part of his articles, do remain, notwithstanding the tran- 
sitory body and bones of the man was thus consumed and 
dispersed." 

Some further observations on this treatment of the remains 
of this illustrious reformer, with a brief account of his principal 
disciples, and a sketch of the measures progressively adopted 
for the suppression of the truths he had advocated, will be 
found in another part of the present volume. His writings and 
the doctrines he tauiifht now claim our attention. 



Writings of Wichliff, 

Soon aflcr the decease of Wickliff, an Engli^h prelate stated 
that the writuigs of the reformer were as vohuninous as those 
of Augustine. Those which are still extant, would make several 
large volumes, and embrace a great variety of subjects. Bale, 
who wrote a century and a half subsequent to Wickliff 's death, 
states that he had seen more than a hundred and fil\y of iiis 
works, partly in Latin and partly in English, and that he liad 
ascertained the titles of nK)re than a hundred others. Many of 
the latter, however, most probably, w(^re only diflerent names 
lor pieces which Bale liad seen; Jbr amongst the manuscripts 
yet existing, the same piece is sometimes designated by more 
than one title. Lewis has transcribed Bale's catalogue, noticing 
tiie pieces he was acquainted with, and adding others which in- 
creased the list to nearly three hundred. The catalogue given 
by Babcr is more correct; it is drawn up with much care from 



^ His writings, 35 

a personal examination of many of the works of Wickliff, and 
contains about one hundred and eighty articles. 

But the list of WickliiT's writings most useful to the general 
reader, has been compiled by Vaughan, who with much personal 
labour examined the writings of the reformer yet in existence, 
and made himself better acquainted with their contents than 
any other person appears to have done during the last four cen- 
turies. It is not difficult to ascertain that the principal works 
attributed to Wickliff are his genuine productions. Many are 
expressly mentioned in the public documents intended to sup- 
press his opinions, while others possess sufficient internal evi- 
dence. 

Printing had not then been discovered, copies could only be 
increased by the slow process of writing, while his enemies 
w^ere indefatigable in their endeavours to destroy them, yet the 
copies were so numerous, and so much valued, that nearly the 
whole of his writings are still extant — a sufficient proof, if 
any were wanting, that the doctrines he taught were widely 
diffused and highly esteemed. Nor was this confined to Eng- 
land ; copies are also foimd in public libraries on the continent. 
Subinco Lepus, bishop of Prague, burned more than two hundred 
volumes, many of w^hich were richly adorned, the property of 
persons of the higher classes in Bohemia. It also appears that 
the greater part of the writings of Wickliff that have not come 
down to us, treated of philosophical or sholastic subjects, which 
would be little prized except by the students of that period, 
while the copies of W^ickliff s writings which remain, seem to 
have been preserved by the laity. Many of these are large 
volumes which could not have been written without much labour 
and cost. We may suppose they were prepared under the di- 
rection of some of his powerful supporters, while their plain ap- 
pearance, contrasted with that of many of the highly adorned 
volumes written at that period, shows that the contents formed 
the chief value in the estimation of their possessors, nor do they 
seem to have been the workmanship of the religious establish- 
ments of that day. In one of Wickliff's homilies, he complains 
of the endeavours of the clergy to prevent the circulation of the 
English scriptures, and adds, " But one comfort is of knights, 
that they savour (esteem) much the gospel, and have will to 
read in English the gospel of Christ's life." Another, and even 
more interesting class of the Wickliff manuscripts, are the little 
books written w4th much less elegance, but which evidently 
were designed for the solace and instruction of souls, thirsting 
in secret for the waters of life. The tattered and well used ap- 
pearance of many of these small volumes, is an indisputable 
testimony to the correctness of the allegations in the bishop's 
registers of the next two centuries, as to the manner in which 
these " pestilent books" were read by the followers of the truth, 
till, by the invention of printing, copious supplies of other reli- 
gious tracts were brought forward. 



36 Wickliff.—Life, 

Wickliff's principal work, the translation of the scriptures, 
has been already noticed. Copies of the whole or of detached 
portions are found in several public, and in some private libra- 
ries. A very beautiful and perfect specimen is preserved in the 
royal library in the British Museum, (Bib. Reg*. I. c. viii.) The 
new testament has been printed, in 1731 and 1810, but being a 
literal reprint, in the original orthography, it is only calculated 
for libraries. Specimens of his version will be found at p. 45. 
As a work for popular use, Wicklitf's bible now is of course 
wholly superseded by later translations.* 

The Trialogus is the work next in importance. It contains 
a series of dialogues between three persons, characterised as 
Alethia, or Truth, Pseudis, or Falsehood, and Phronesis, or Wis- 
dom. Truth represents a sound divine, and states questions; 
Falsehood urges the objections of an unbeliever; Wisdom de- 
cides as a subtle theologian. This w^ork probably contains the 
substance of Wicklitf's divinity lectures, with considerable ad- 
ditions. It embraces almost every doctrine connected with the 
theology of that day, treated however in the scholastic form then 
universal. Although very unattractive to modern readers, it was 
doubtless a useful and important work. As Turner observes, 
"It was the respected academician, reasoning with the ideas of 
the reformer." It is evident that W^ickliff wrote this work un- 
dc" a decided impression that his efforts for the truth were likely 
to be crowned with martyrdom. It was printed in 15vJ4. Copies 
are rare, for this work was actively sought for by the Romanists, 
and destroyed; A specimen will be found in a subsequent page. 
The following remark of Babcr is but too applicable to the methoil 
in which this work is written. "The scholastic theology which 
was taught at this period, was a species of divinity which ob- 
scured the excellence and perverted the utility of that sacred 
science. By the introduction of this jargon of the schoolmen, 
])liilosophical abstraction and subtilty had superseded that un- 
affected simplicity and engaging plainness, with which the pri- 
mitive teachers of Christianity explained the doctrines of sal- 
vation." Thus, although Wickliff in the Trialogus vanquisiied 
the opponents of the truth with their own weapons, it was not 
calculated to be a work of general utility like his more popular 
tracts in the English language. A gocnl sunnnary of the con- 
tents of the '1^'ialogus is given by Vauglian. 

Only one other of Wickliff's writings appears to have been 
printed at the period of the reformation — his Wicket, a small 
treatise on the Ix)r(rs supper, which will be found in the pre- 
sent collection. This was among the most influential of his 
works, as appears from the frequent niention of it in those 
records of persecution, the bishops' registers. 

His treatise, Of the Truth of Scripture, is a very valuable 

* A proppoctus; fur the printing of VVickliff's version of the old testa- 
ment has been issued. (1830.) 



His ivrifings, 3T 

performance. It is in Latin: only two manuscript copies are 
known to exist ; one in the Bodleian library at Oxford, the 
other at Trinity College, Dublin. The latter is the preferable 
copy, and is described as containing two hundred and forty-four 
large double columned pages, of nearly a thousand words in a 
page. It would therefore be equal in contents to a common 
octavo of more than seven hundred pages. It abounds in con- 
tractions, but is fairly and legibly written. Fox the martyrolo- 
gist possessed a copy which he intended to translate and print. 
Vaughan describes this work as embodying almost every senti- 
ment peculiar to the reformer. James made considerable use 
of its contents in his apology for Wickliff, but it was neglected 
by Lewis. An accurate reprint, with a correct translation, 
would be exceedingly valuable. The extent of this piece 
wholly precluded insertion in the present collection, even in 
an abridged form. 

Another useful and popular work in its day, was the Poor 
Caitiff. This is a collection of English tracts, which were 
w^idely circulated. Several copies of the whole, or of detached 
portions are in existence, but only a few sentences from its 
pages have hitherto been printed. This neglect has probably 
arisen from the little reference it contains to the controversies 
in which Wicklifi was constantly engaged, and to which per- 
haps an undue prominence has been given by Lewis, and other 
early biographers. This valuable memorial of the reformation 
will be found in the present volume. 

Many of Wickliff 's homilies or postills have been preserved ; 
they appear rather to have been written down by his hearers, 
than to be finished copies prepared by himself. (See p. 24.) 

WicklifF's other writings need not here be mentioned minute- 
ly. His Memorial to the King and Parliament, and Objections 
of Friars, were printed by James. Some of his small tracts 
have been printed by Lewis and Vaughan, to whose lists of the 
reformer's writings, particularly the latter, the reader may be 
referred.* 

Most of these smaller pieces are in the British Museum, in 
the libraries of Trinity college, Dublin, and Trinity college, 
Cambridge. In the library of Corpus Christi college in the 
latter university, among the valuable collection of manuscripts 
the gifl of archbishop Parker, is a volume containing many of 
the controversial pieces. The following note is prefixed : " In 
this book are gathered together, all the sharp treatises concern- 
ing the errors and defaults which John Wickliff did find in his 
time, specially in the clergy and relio-ious, and in other estates 
of the world." f 

* One of Wickliff *s tracts, Why poor priests have no benefices, is 
printed in the History of the Church of Christ, vol. iv. 

t Dr. Lamb, the master of Corpus Christi college, Cambridge, very 
kindly permitted several of these pieces to be transcribed for the present 
selection. 

WICKLIFF. 4 



38 Wickliff.—Life. 

At the period when WicklifF wrote, the English language 
had begun to recover from the disuse into which it had fallen. 
From the time of the Conquest many French and other foreign 
words and phrases were introduced by the higher ranks, who 
chiefly used the French language, but the lower orders adhered 
more closely to the JSaxon phraseology. Mr. Baber observes, 
" Those of the works of Wickliff, written by him in his ver- 
nacular tongue, will be perused with interest and admiration 
by every one curious in the history of the English language, 
lor VVicklifF's English will, I apprehend, be found upon strict 
examination to be more pure than that of contemporary writers. 
Wicklifl^, when he wrote in his native tongue, did it not for the 
benefit of courtiers and scholars, but for the instruction of the 
less learned portion of the people. He therefore, as much as 
possible, rejected all 'strange English,' and was studious to ex- 
press himself in a diction simple and unadorned; at the same 
time avoiding the charge of a barbarous and familiar phraseol- 
ogy." The use of English instead of barbarous Latin, in so 
large a portion of his writings, gave much efficacy to his exer- 
tions for the spiritual welfare of his countrymen. 

A specimen of Wickliff 's writings in their original orthogra- 
phy, will be found in two extracts from his version of the old 
testament in the following pages. At first they will appear 
hcrdiy intelligible to the reader unaccustomed to the writings 
of lliat day. But on closer examination, it will be found that 
if the tSaxon terminations, expletives, and a few peculiar words 
are removed, the language is, as it has been w^ell characterised, 
" undefiled English ;" in fact, very similar to the language of 
our rural districts at the present day. To have printed Wickliff's 
tracts exactly in the form in which they were written, would 
have rendered them useless for the purposes of the present col- 
lection. It was necessary to remove some of the peculiarities 
just adverted to, but further the editor had no wish to proceed; 
and he felt the necessity of retaining the precise words of the 
original, wherever they would convey the meaning of the re- 
former to the general reader. How far the attempt has been 
successful, it is for those to say who may com])are the present 
edition with the original manuscripts; he will only add that it 
was not an easy task, from the labour and the responsibility 
incurred. 

The pieces included in this volume, which have not hitherto 
been printed, were copied from the originals expressly for the 
present collection. Many others were selected for the same 
purpose, but tlje limits of the work prevented their insertion.* 

It is deeply to be regretted, that a complete edition of Wick- 

* The remjlt of thJH rxaminntion enables the writer of these remarks 
to hear t<'8finiony (o tliti value of V'nui;lian'8 ncroimt of tlic writiiiiiF of 
VVirkliiK He would ni<ain nrknowlrdL^e tliaf the preHcnt coinpinitii)n 
has bf^cn much Ihcilitatcd by the work of Mr. V. as well as by his point- 
ing out some of the pieces which proved most suitable for insertion. 



Doctrines taught by Wickliff, 39 

lifF's writings never has been printed. Such a monument is due 
to the illustrious individual to whom we perhaps are indebted 
more than to any other, for the gospel light and religious liberty 
we enjoy. Milton says, *' A good book is the precious life blood 
of a master spirit, imbalmed and treasured up on purpose to a 
life beyond life." Surely the writings of Wickliff ought not to 
be suffered to perish. A much smaller sum than in many in- 
stances has been vainly expended in monumental attempts to 
preserve the remembrance of persons whose names in a few 
short years have been almost entirely forgotten, would suffice 
to complete a national memorial record of our great reformer, 
"more lasting than brass." But, blessed be the Most High, 
when we look around, in every circumstance which endears to 
us the protestant faith of our land, we are reminded of John 
Wickliff. 

To use the words of Henry Wharton, "Wickliff was a man 
than whom the Christian world in these last ages has not pro- 
duced a greater; and who seems to have been placed as much 
above praise as he is above envy." 



Doctrines taught hy Wickliff. 

The doctrines taught by Wickliff have been continually mis- 
represented by papists, and often misunderstood by protestants. 
They may be stated as follows : — 

Wickliff 's FAITH was derived from the scriptures. He con- 
sidered them as a divine revelation, containing a sufficient and 
perfect rule of Christian belief and practice. The authority of 
scripture he esteemed to be superior to any other writing, or to 
any tradition. He considered the canonical books alone as in- 
spired. He urged that all truth is contained in scripture, and 
that no conclusion was to be allowed unless sanctioned by the 
sacred records. 

The pope's authority, or right to interfere in temporal con- 
cerns, he wholly rejected, and considered that it was only to 
be admitted in other respects, when conformable to scripture. 
He maintained that the pope might err in doctrine as well as 
in life. 

The church of Christ he considered to be the universal con- 
gregation of those predestinated to life eternal. The church of 
Rome he considered not to be superior in authority to any other. 
He did not allow that the pope was head of the church, and 
opposed the extravagant authority claimed by the hierarchy, 
considering it as antichrist, whether usurped by the pope or the 
clergy at large, while he strongly urged the respect due to con- 
sistent and holy ministers of the word. He urged that the 



40 Wickliff.^Lvfe, 



clergy ought not to be accounted lords over God's heritage, bd 
as nimisters and stewards of their heavenly Master. 

He supported the king's supremacy over all persons, even 
ecclesiastics, in temporal matters. lie never taught any doc- 
trine contrary to the legal rights of property. 

He sometimes mentions the sacraments as seven, but only 
lays stress upon two, baptism and the Lord's supper. Of the 
others he spoke so lightly, as to be accused by his enemies of 
rejecting them. His opinion of the Lord's supper is stated in 
his Wicket and his Confession. The doctrine of transubstan- 
tiation he wholly rejected. 

He approved outward worship, and public assembling for that 
purpose, but condemned the superstitious rites of the Romish 
church. He disapproved the church music then esteemed, 
which was elaborate, often trifling, and opposed to devotional 
feeling. 

He admitted the doctrine of purgatory — that early error, but 
rejected the most corrupt and profitable part of the fable, that 
the sutferings of purgatory may be shortened by the prayers of 
men or the intercessions of saints. According to his statements, 
it. was rather the doctrine of an intermediate state, than the 
popish purgatory, which he condemns as " pious falsehood." 
As he advanced in life, his views on this subject became more 
clear and scriptural. (See extract from Dr. James, p. 109). In 
WicklifT's tract, Of the church of Christ, her members, and her 
governance, he says, *' The second part of the church are saints 
in purgatory, and these sin not anew, but purge their old sins; 
and many errors are fallen in praying for these saints. And 
since they are all dead in body, Christ's words may be taken of 
them, Let us follow Christ in our life, and let the dead bury the 
dead." This widely differs from the doctrine of the church of 
Rome, thus determined by the council of Trent; "The souls 
detained in purj^atory are assisted by the suffrages (prayers) of 
the laithful, and most especially by the acceptable sacrifice of 
the altar." 

He allowed the memory of the saints to be honoured, but 
only that men miL'"ht be excited to imitate their example, not as 
objects of worship. He denied the efficacy of their mediation, 
asserting that the Lord Jesus Christ is the only Mediator. Pil- 
grimages he wholly disapproved, and the worship of images he 
fre(|uently condenms. 

The doctrinps of jmpal indulgences and pardons he condemned 
in the strongest terms, as encouragemrnts to sin. He also ob- 
jected to sanctuaries, as affording impunity to crime. He held 
that absolution or forsfiveness of sins belonged to (iod only. He 
condemned the celibacy imposed by the church of Rome upon 
its clerory. His opinions respecting the papacy are stated at 
p. 1K4. " 

Wickliir is acctised of wishing to deprive the church of its 
property, by what he Ims said upon the subject of tythes. His 



m 



Doctrines taught by Wickliff. 41 

views were simply these. It is reasonable that the priest 
should have a suitable provision, besides the mere necessaries 
of food and raiment. He allowed that dymes (or tythes) and 
offerings are God's part, and that priests should live on them, 
but he urges " that the principal cause for which tythes and 
offerings should be paid, was curates teaching their parishioners 
in word and examples." When, however, the curates were 
wicked and neglected their duty, he considered that the tythes 
might be withheld from them, though they ought to be devoted 
to the service of God. It should not be forgotten, that the 
priesthood then taught that men should have the divine blessing 
in this life, and heaven hereafter, if they duly paid their tythes 
and offerings. The reader who wishes a fuller account of 
Wickliff's opinions upon this subject may refer to his biogra- 
phers.* 

He condemned the blasphemous adjurations then so com- 
mon : this has occasioned his being misrepresented as asserting 
that judicial oaths were unlawful, whereas he expressly declares 
that it is lawful to make oath by God Almighty in a needful 
case. 

Of the election of grace he thus speaks in his Trialogus : 
" We are predestinated, that we may obtain divine acceptance, 
and become holy; having received that grace through Christ's 
taking human nature, whereby we are rendered finally pleasing 
to God. And it appears that this grace, which is called the 
grace of predestination, or the charity of final perseverance, 
cannot by any means fail." 

On the great doctrines of Justification and Merit, Dr. James 
quotes passages, which prove Wickliff to have taught " That 
faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, is sufficient for salvation, and 
that without faith it is impossible to please God ; that the merit 
of Christ is able, by itself, to redeem all mankind from hell, and 
that this sufficiency is to be understood without any other cause 
concurring; he persuaded men therefore to trust wholly to 
Christ, to rely altogether upon his sufferings, not to seek to be 
justified but by his righteousness; and that by participation in 
his righteousness, all men are righteous." Dr. James adds, " In 
the doctrine of merits, Wickliff was neither pelagian nor pa- 
pist; he beateth down all these proud pharisees, who say that 
God did not all for them but think that their merits help. 
Wickliff says, ' Heal us. Lord, for nought ; that is, no merit of 
ours; but for thy mercy, Lord, not to our merits, but to thy 
mercy, give thy joy. Give us grace to know that all thy gifts 
are of thy goodness. Our flesh, though it seem holy, yet it is 

* The reader would also do well to examine the disputations of Huss 
upon this subject, in the university of Prague. (See Fox.) What was 
said of Luther by Erasmus, may also be applied to Wickliff as the great 
cause of die vehement opposition he experienced ; " He touched the pope 
on the crown, and the monks on the belly." The English reformer per- 
haps went further than the German in the latter respect. 

4* 



42 Wicklif.—Life. 

not holy. We all are originally sinners, as Adam, and in Adam ; 
his leprosy cleaveth faster to us tlian Naaman's did to Gehazi. 
For according to his teaching, we all are sinners, not only from 
our hirth, but before, so that we cannot so much as think a good 
thought unless Jesus the Angel of great counsel send it; nor 
perform a good work unless it be properly his good work. His 
mercy comes before us that we receive grace, and followeth us, 
helping us, and keeping us in grace. So then it is not good for 
us to trust in our merits, in our virtues, in our righteousness, 
but to conclude this point, good it is only to trust in God."* " 

The foregoing summary of doctrines taught by Wickliff, is 
taken from the statements of Baber, Vaughan, James, and 
Lewis, who quote passages confirmatory of every point. In 
their works the reader will find those references ; the limits of 
these pages do not allow them to be inserted here in any form 
which could be useful. The reader should also again be re- 
minded that he must not expect to find all these opinions clearly 
set forth in every part of Wicklif}*'s writings. Dr. James, 
speaking of the countenance some passages give to prayer to 
saints and the virgin, observes, '* I am persuaded that he re- 
tracted these opinions in his latter and more learned works. 
If ever it be God's pleasure that his works, which were cut and 
mangled, and scattered worse than Absyrtus' limbs were in the 
poet, may be brought forth and set together again, that we may 
hav^e the wliole body of his learned and religious works, and be 
able to distinguish the time and order wherein he wrote, then, 
I say, we should receive due satisfaction on this point." 
Vaughan has done much to settle the dates of Wicklifl^'s writ- 
ings, and has thereby shown iiis gradual and satisfactory progress 
on several points. 

We must not expect to find in Wickliflf's writings a finished 
system of doctrine. Many of his statements taken separately 
perhaps will appear incorrect, but take them as a whole, and 
we sliall be convinced that he well merited his glorious title, 
"The. gospel doctor." For the variations which exist, as Dr. 
James observes, " considering the times wherein, and tbe per- 
sons with wiiom he lived, he may easily obtain pardon of 
any impartial reader. II. VVliarton justly observes, these 
variations do not detract from liim; they show that his opposi- 
tion to Romish errors was directed by a matured judgment; 
and that he should not detect them all at once cannot be matter 
of surprise. 

Vaughan also has ably cleared the reformer from the charge 
of inconsistency, or wavering; he lias "fairly vindicated 
Wyclifl^e from the long reiterated accusation of having con- 
cealed his opinions to escape tlie terrors of power." 

Ui)on the great and leading doctrine of the Christian faith, 
Vaughan well observes, that Melancthon could have known but 
little of WicklilT's theological productions when he described 
him as " ignorant of the righteousness of faith." He adds, "If 



TestimGiiy of the iniiver^ity of Oxford. 43 

by that doctrine Melancthon meant a reliance on the atonement 
of Christ, as the only, and the certain medium for the guilty, it 
is unquestionable that this truth was the favourite, and the most 
efficient article in the faith of the English, as well as in that of 
the German reformer. It must be acknowledged that this tenet 
is more frequently adverted to in the writings of Luther, than 
in those of Wycliffe ; and his notices respecting it, are also 
frequently more definite, because distinguishing more commonly 
between the acceptance of offenders in virtue of the Saviour's 
death, and the growth of devout affections in the heart, under 
the influence of the divine Spirit. But that such was the design 
of the Redeemer's sacrifice, was not more distinctly apprehended 
by the professor of Wittemberg, than by the rector of Lutter- 
worth ; nor was this truth the source of a more permanent con- 
fidence with the one than w^ith the other." 

Li the history of the reformation, there are perhaps no two 
characters more nearly allied than Wickliff and Luther. Both 
looked to the holy scriptures as the standard of truth : for hu- 
man instruction each learned much from the writings of Augus- 
tine. The boldness of the German professor was perhaps mani- 
fested at an earlier period of life, and the situation in which he 
was placed more favourable to the permanency of the work 
whereui he was called to labour; but Wickliff 's sun shone 
brightest when setting, and the decided manner in which he re- 
jected the errors of popery respecting the sacrament, while 
Lnther never was wholly freed from their fatal influence, 
directed the efforts of his followers with undivided attention 
against the church of Rome. Thus, when the doctrines of the 
gospel, as taught by the German reformers, were made known 
in England, the soil was found well prepared. Many among the 
lower and middle classes were informed on these points, and al- 
ready had received the truth. The bishops' registers prove how 
extensive were the results of Wickliff's labours. The records 
of bishop Longland's persecutions in 1521, (see Fox) show their 
effect was not evanescent. 

This sketch of the life of Wickliff may be closed with " The 
public testimony given by the university of Oxford, touching the 
commendation of his great learning and good life." 

>' Unto all and singular the children of our holy mother the 
church, to whom this present letter shall come, the vice-chan- 
cellor of the university of Oxford, with the whole congregation 
of the masters, wish perpetual health in the Lord. Forsomuch 
a& it is not commonly seen, that the acts and monuments of 
valiant men, nor the praise and merits of good men should be 
passed over and hidden with perpetual silence, but that true re- 
port and fame should continually spread abroad the same in 
strange and far distant places, both for the witness of the same, 
and example of others — forsomuch also as the provident discre- 
tion of man's nature being recompensed with cruelty, hath de- 



44 Wicklif.—Life, 

vised and ordained this buckler and defence against such as do 
blaspheme and slander other men's doings, that whensoever 
witness by word of mouth cannot be present, the pen by writing 
may supply the same. — 

'' Hereupon it foUoweth, that the special good will and care 
which we bare unto John Wicklifi; sometime child of this our 
university, and professor of divinity, moving and stirring our 
minds, as his manners and conditions required no less, with one 
mind, voice, and testimony, we do witness, all his conditions 
and doings throughout his whole life to have been most sincere 
and commendable; whose honest manners and conditions, pro- 
foundness of learning, and most redolent renown and fame, we 
desire the more earnestly to be notified and known unto all 
faithful, for that we understand the maturity and ripeness of his 
conversation, his diligent labours and travels to tend to the 
praise of God, the help and safeguard of others, and the profit 
of the church. 

" Wherefore, we signify unto you by these presents, that his 
conversation, even from his youth upward, unto the time of his 
death, was so praiseworthy and honest, that never at any time 
was there any note or spot of suspicion noised of him. But in 
his answering, reading, preaching, and determining, he behaved 
himself laudably, and as a stout and valiant champion of the 
faith ; vanquishing, by the force of the scriptures, all such, who 
by their wilful beggary blasphemed and slandered Christ's re- 
ligion. Neither was this doctor convict of any heresy, either 
burned of our prelates after his burial. God forbid that our pre- 
lates should have condemned a man of such honesty, for a 
heretic; who, amongst all the rest of the university, hath written 
in logic, philosophy, divinity, morality, and the speculative art, 
without equal. The knowledge of all which and singular things 
we do desire to testify and deliver forth; to the intent that the 
fame and renown of the said doctor may be the more evident, 
and had in reputation, amongst them unto whose hands these 
present letters testimonial shall come. 

** In witness whereof, wo have caused these our letters testi- 
monial to be sealed with our common seal. Dated at Ox- 
ford, in our congregation-house, October 1st, 1400."* 

* The Romanisis, accordiiiir to their usual iirartirc, have endeavoured 
to r»'present tiiis irstinioiiv as a for«reiy. Ltwis luis fully exaniiu* d the 
subjert, and hay sliown thrre is no reason to douht that it was the rc*- 
coriled opinion of a considerable ]>art, at least, of the members of the 
miivrrsity. The puhiic brand of heresy was not alllxed to WickliH's 
character till his hones were burned in 1 1-28. 



THE 



DISCIPLES OF WICKLIFF. 



The appellation of Lollard was early given to the followers of 
Wickliff. There are various opinions respecting the origin of 
this name, but that of Mosheim appears the most probable. He 
considers that it was derived from a German word, lollen; 
signifying to sing with a low voice. It originated upon the 
continent, and from the middle of the eleventh century was ap- 
plied to persons distinguished for their piety : they were gene- 
rally remarkable for devotional singing. 

The number of WicklifF's disciples at the time of his decease 
is described by Knighton, a canon of Leicester, his contem- 
porary.* He says, " The number of those who believed in 
WicklifF's doctrine very much increased, and were multiplied 
like suckers growing from the root of a tree. They every where 
filled the kingdom; so that a man could scarcely meet two 
people on the road but one of them was a disciple of Wickliff." 
Knighton also says, "They so prevailed by their laborious urging 
of their doctrines, that they gained over the half of the people, or 
a still greater proportion, to their sect. Some embraced their 
doctrines heartily, others they compelled to join them from fear 
or shame." In another place he accuses them of causing di- 
visions in families — the followers of the truth ever have been 
opposed by "parents, and brethren, and kinsfolk, and friends." 
The testimony of Knighton is valuable. It is the evidence of 
an enemy who fails in bringing forward any just cause of ac- 
cusation. That a people so persecuted could compel others to 
belong to them, is a charge too improbable to need refutation. 

In reality, the followers of the Reformer were of two 
classes. The first included those who felt disgust at the 
usurpations of the popedom, and the vices of the Romish 
priesthood, while they cared little for the doctrinal errors of 
that church, though they could not but perceive their opposi- 
tion to scripture, and even to common sense. Wlien we 
remember the conflicts in which the king and parliament of 
England had been engaged with the papacy during many years, 
and the impunity with which ecclesiastics were allowed to 
pursue their profligate courses, we may well suppose that a 
large portion of the community entertained the sentiments just 

TwvsdeH; Decum Script ores, col. 2663. 

21* (1) 



2 The Disciples of Wicklif. 

described ; so that Knighton's statement of every second person 
in the kingdom being a disciple of Wickliff, may scarcely have 
been an exaggeration when so understood. 

But there was another class whose attachment to the doc- 
trines of the Reformer was of a more spiritual nature ; who 
felt the evil of sin, and desired to live holy unto God : these were 
far less numerous. They are described by Reinher, an inquisitor 
of those times. He says, " The disciples of Wickliff are men of 
a serious, modest deportment ; they avoid all ostentation in 
dress, mix little with the busy world, and complain of the 
debauchery of mankind. They maintain themselves entirely 
by their own labour, despising wealth, being fully content with 
mere necessaries. They follow no tratRc, because it is attended 
with so much lying, swearing, and cheating. They are chaste 
and temperate, never seen in taverns, nor amused by vain 
pleasures. You find them always employed, either learning or 
teaching. They are concise and devout in their prayers, 
blaming lifeless tediousness. They never swear, they speak 
little; in public preaching they lay the chief stress upon 
charity. They disregard the canonical hours, saying that tho 
Lord's prayer repeated with devotion is better than tedious 
hours (Romish services) without devotion. They explain the 
scriptures differently from the interpretations of the holy doc- 
tors and church of Rome. Tiiey speak little, and with humility; 
they are well behaved in appearance." 

The writings of Wickliff fully demonstrate that he wished 
his followers to be such as the Roinisli inquisitor describes them. 
The nominal followers of Wickliff, those who merely opposed 
the outward errors of the papacy, will not require our particu- 
lar notice, although they letl many valuable testimonies against 
the errors of popery, and some in favour of the Lollards. In 
this number may be included the poets, Chaucer and Gower. 
Langland, the author of the bold reproofs on the vices of eccle- 
siastics, contained in the Visions of Piers Plowman, also wrote 
during the early life of Wickliff. 

Among those actuated by higlier motives, there were many 
individuals of rank and influmice, who although not sepa- 
rated from the world to the extent above described, yet were 
sufliricntly decided to incur censure from the Roman eccle- 
siastics. The higii rank of one, liowever, prevented this so far 
as regarded herself Ann of Bohemia, the consort of Richard 
II., evidenced her attachment to the scriptures, copies of which 
she j)ossessed, and constantly studied. Even the Romish pre- 
late Arundel spraks of hrr piety and knowledge of the bible, 
as reflecting shame upon the ignorance of many ecclesiastics. 
Shf interfered in behalf of Wickliff; and to the intercourse 
established between Knc^land and her native land, as means, 
may be ascribed the progress of the gospel in Bohemia, with 
the subsequent opposition to the errors of popery in that coun- 
try. The history of the reformation in Boliemia, and the 



Cohham, Hereford^ Ashton, 3 

affecting narratives respecting the Waldenses at this period, 
should be perused in connection with the accounts of the 
English Lollards. 

Fox, Lewis, and others, mention sir Thomas Latimer, sir 
Lew4s Clifford, the queen mother, John of Gaunt, lord 
Henry Percy, sir John Montague, the earl of Salisbury, and 
others, among the protectors of the Lollards, apparently 
upon principle. But Lord Cobham was the most illustrious 
in this respect among the British nobility. He laid down 
his life for the truth. The particulars of his history are given 
in the following pages. John of Northampton, mayor of Lon- 
don, in 1382, and the following year, was characterised as a 
Lollard on account of his bold proceedings against persons of 
wicked life. The terms of reproach applied to the inhabitants 
of London, on account of the proceedings of their mayor, show 
that the principles of WicklifF had made considerable progress 
in the chief city of the land. 

Some other adherents of Wickliff claim more distinct no- 
tice. Their history presents many interesting particulars of 
that period. Nicholas Hereford was of Queen's college, 
Oxford. He was included in some of the proceedings against 
the Reformer, both at Oxford and in London. The accounts 
given of him are inconsistent and confused. This is not sur- 
prising, as almost the only particulars we possess are given by 
Romish writers. It appears that he v/ent to Rome, and there 
defended his opinions in the. presence of the pope, by whom he 
was imprisoned. Being liberated by a popular tumult, he re- 
turned to England, where he was imprisoned by the archbishop 
of Canterbury. From the statement of Thorpe, he seems to 
have submitted to the church of Rome. Hereford is supposed 
to have assisted Wickliff in the translation of the scriptures. 
He was one of the most learned of the followers of the Re- 
former, but did not possess firmness or consistency. He sat 
among the cleroy w^ho passed judgment, in 1391, upon Walter 
Brute, and yet, in the following year, he again needed and ob- 
tained the royal protection against his enemies. 

John Ashton was also included in the proceedings' against 
the Reformer. He was a zealous preacher. Knighton describes 
him, as *• travelling on foot, with a staff in his hand, visiting 
the churches throughout the kingdom." His vigilance is thus 
characterised, " He was like a dog raised from sleep, ready to 
bark at every noise, and as expeditious in passing from one 
place to another, as if he had been a bee ; full of arguments, 
ready to dogmatize or spread his opinions. He boldly, to the 
utmost of his power, declared the doctrines of his master Wick- 
liff at the tables of sinful hearts, that he might increase his 
sect. Nor was he contented with the enticing conclusions of his 
master, nor ashamed out of his own novel, subtle invention, to 
add many others, sowing tares among the wheat wherever he 



4 The Disciples of Wichliff, 

preached." Ashton's fate is uncertain, but it would appear 
that he retained his profession of the faith, while by some con- 
cession he was permitted to resume his scholastic engagements. 
To Ash ton and Hereford, WicklifF is supposed to allude in one 
of his homilies, which has been quoted in the life of WicklifF 
but may be here repeated. " He (Courtney) pursueth a certain 
priest, because he writeth to men this English, and summoneth 
him and travail eth him, so that it is hard for him to bear it. 
And thus he pursueth another priest, by the help of pharisees, 
because he preacheth Christ's gospel freely and without fables. 
O men who are on Christ's behalf, help ye now against anti- 
christ, for the perilous times are come which Christ and Paul 
foretold." Vaughan adds, " We can readily believe that Wick- 
liif 's auditory would sympathize with their pastor at this fore- 
boding moment." 

Philip Repingdon was a canon of Leicester, and a noted 
preacher at Oxford. He also was included in the proceedings 
against Wickliff. For a time he preached very boldly respect- 
ing the sacrament, and against the Romish ecclesiastics. But 
his fall was a decided one. Terrified by the prospect of suffer- 
ings, or allured by promotion, he forsook the Lollards, and be- 
came a bitter persecutor of the truth. He was afterwards 
bishop of Lincoln and a cardinal ! A sufficient proof that the 
papists would gladly have induced the principal followers of 
Wickliff to join their party, had the usual worldly inducements 
availed for that purpose. 

John Purney, or Purvey, was an active preacher like 
Ashton. Knighton describes him as a simple priest of grave 
aspect and behaviour, with an appearance of greater sanctity 
than others. In his dress and habits a common man ; giving 
himself no rest of body, he was unwearied in his endeavours 
by travelling up and down, to persuade the people and bring 
them over to his views. He adds, '' Being an invincible disciple 
of his master, John Wicklilf, Purney conformed to his opinions, 
and fearlessly confirmed them like an able executor. For that 
he boarded with his master when alive, and so liaving drunk 
more plentifully of his instructions, he more abundantly sucked 
them in, and always, even to his dying day, as an inseparable 
companion, followed both him and his opinions and doctrines, 
being unwearied in liis labours and endeavours to propagate 
them." Walden calls him, "the library of the Lollards, and 
the glosser (annotator) upon Wickliff." 

Purney was curate to Wickliff during the latter abode of the 
Reformer at Lutterworth. He is supposed to have written the 
proloirue to the f^nglish bible which has ])y some been attri- 
buted to his master, an extract from whicli will be found in 
the fbllowimx pages. It is also conjectured, that to his care 
we are indc^btecl for a considerable part of the homilies of 
Wickliff which have been preserved. He was afterwards 



# 



Repingdon, Purney, Swinderby, 5 

imprisoned by Arundel, and by tortures induced to recant at 
Paul's Cross, in 1396. A small living was then given to him. 
He is mentioned in Thorpe's examinations as living in confor- 
mity to the manners of the world. But his conscience did not 
allow him to pursue this course. He was imprisoned again in 
1421, by archbishop Chichely, and is supposed to have died in 
confinement. 

Knighton mentions several other active Lollards; among 
them was William Swinderby. He was originally a hermit. 
Coming to Leicester he preached against the corruptions of 
the age, particularly reproving the pride and vanity of females, 
until, as we are told, *' the good and grave women, as well as 
the bad, threatened to stone him out of the place !'' He then 
addressed the merchants and rich men, denouncing those who 
neglected heavenly riches for worldly wealth ; so often dwelling 
thereon, that, as the Romish chronicler remarks, had not the 
divine clemency interposed, he had driven some honest men of 
the town into despair I Swinderby then became a recluse, but 
after a short time resumed his preaching, directing his dis- 
courses against the errors and vices of popery. Knighton, of 
course, stigmatizes his doctrines as erroneous, but adds, "He 
so captivated the affections of the people, that they said they 
never had seen or heard any one who so well explained the 
truth." Being excommunicated, and forbidden to preach in 
any church or churchyard, he made a pulpit of two millstones 
in the high-street of Leicester, and there preached "in con- 
tempt of the bishop." "There," says Knighton, "you might 
see throngs of people from every part, as well from the town as 
the country, double the number there used to be when they 
might hear him lawfully." Swinderby was cited to appear 
before the bishop of Lincoln, when he was convicted of heresy 
and errors, for which it is said, " he deserved to be made fuel 
for the fire." Many of his hearers had accompanied him, and 
lamented his danger, but the duke of Lancaster being at Lincoln 
interposed in his behalf; he was allowed to escape upon promis- 
ing to recant his opinions, and publicly acknowledging them 
to be errors. He afterwards settled at Coventry, where he 
preached and taught with greater success than before. Wal- 
singham, another Romish historian, says, that the multitude 
raged in his behalf, so as to deter the bishop of Lincoln from 
further measures against him. 

Swinderby then retired to Herefordshire, where proceedings 
were instituted against him by the bishop of the diocese, in 
1391. Fox has given them at length from the registers of the 
bishop. They show that Swinderby taught the same doctrines 
as WicklifF, and was active in preaching the truth. One of 
the articles against him states, that " The same William, un- 
mindful of his own salvation, hath many and often times come 
into a certain desert wood, called Dorvallwood, and there, in a 
certain chapel not hallowed, or rather in a profane cottage, 



6 The Disciples of Wickliff. 

hath, in contempt of the keys,* presumed of his own rashness 
to celebrate, nay rather to profanate." He was also accused 
of similar " doings" elsewhere. Already had the poor Lollards 
resorted to village worship in private houses, then considered 
a crime worthy of death ! This accusation was denied by 
Swinderby in his replies to the articles alleged against him, 
but rather on the ground of the facts being wrongly stated, 
than as admitting such conduct to be contrary to God's law. 
From the registers it appears that Swinderby being cited 
to appear again, absented himself, when he was excom- 
municated. He addressed a letter to the parliament, urging 
an examination into the errors and abuses then prevalent, 
but no particulars are recorded of the subsequent events of 
his life. 

Walter Brute, or Britte, was a layman. He studied at 
Oxford, and graduated there. In 1360 he opposed the favourite 
tenet of the friars, that Christ obtained his livelihood by beg- 
ging. He was of the diocese of Hereford, where he was accused 
of heresy in October, 1391. The tenets objected to him are 
those usually attributed to the Lollards. He was also accused 
as a favourer of Swinderby. His answers were clear and 
decisive as to his belief, that he approved Swinderby's answers, 
that real bread remained after the consecration of the sacra- 
ment, and that the pope was antichrist. He further presented 
some written declarations of the doctrines he held, which were 
entered in the bishop's register, and have been copied by Fox. 
They present an interesting record of his sentiments, extending 
to thirty folio pages. Some extracts will be found in the present 
volume. 

It appears that Brute was a man of some consequence, from 
the pains taken by the Romanists to bring him to their views: 
they probaljly were more earnest on account of his descent from 
the ancient Britons. The proceedmgs lasted for two years, 
when after an examination of three days' continuance, before a 
number of prelates and other ecclesiastics, among whom was his 
late associate Nicholas Hereford, Brute made a submission in 
general terms, which, however, did not imply a recognition of 
the errors of the church of Rome. The register also contains 
a letter sent to Nicholas Hereford by some Ijollard, faithfully 
rebuking liis apostasy. Swinderby and Heroibrd were deemed 
of Kufiicient importance for royal proclamations to be issued, 
denouncinof them by name. What became of Brute is not 
known. If lie survived till the persecutions became more severe 
lie ])rohab1y perishod in prison. 

Many other disciples of Wickliff are enumerated by Lewis 
and Fox. Among them was Thomas Thorpe, whose exami- 
nations are an important document in tlie history of the 
Reformation. They were written by himself, and printed by 

* Or ecclesiastical authority. 



Brute, Thorpe. 7 

Tindal and Fox. They will be foi^nd in the present selec- 
tion. The Acts and Monuments of Fox contain interesting* 
particulars of many others of the faithful band who constituted 
the church of Christ in England, till the brighter days of the 
Reformation commenced. To insert the narratives here would 
make the present work a martyrology rather than a collection 
of the writings of the British Reformers. It is, however, much 
to be regretted that they are so little known, having been 
almost entirely unnoticed in the numerous imperfect extracts 
from Fox which have issued from the press. A correct reprint 
of that truly national work is most desirable. 

The industry of the martyrologist has not left much for those 
who come after him, but in the present volume will be found 
the Lantern of Light, a piece to which he has only adverted by 
name, the contents of which will amply repay the perusal. 

We have now to take a brief view of the course pursued to 
suppress the English Lollards. 

Of this period, Milton well observes in his discourse of the 
Reformation in England, " When I recall to mind, how the 
bright and blissful Reformation, by divine power, strook through 
the black and settled night of ignorance and antichristian 
tyranny, after so many dark ages, wherein the huge over- 
shadowing train of error had almost swept all the stars out of 
the firmament of the church, methinks a sovereign and reviving* 
joy must needs rush into the bosom of him that reads or hears ; 
and the sweet odour of the returning gospel, imbathe his soul 
with the fragrancy of heaven. Then was the sacred bible 
sought out of the dusty corners, where profane falsehood and 
neglect had thrown it ; the schools opened ; divine and human 
learning were raked out of the embers of forgotten tongues ; 
the princes and cities came trooping apace to the newly erected 
banner of salvation ; the martyrs, with the unresistable might 
of weakness, shaking the powers of darkness, and scorning the 
fiery rage of the old red dragon." 

The doctrines of the truth w^ere so widely diffused, at the 
time of WicklifF's decease, that the Romish ecclesiastics found 
prompt and decisive measures alone would preserve their power. 
To reformation they were utterly averse. As they would not 
relinquish their vices and errors, the only course was to 
establish their authority so fully, that whatever they chose to 
sanction or permit, should not be. gainsaid. The dictates of the 
church of Rome were to be received as equal in authority to 
the faith builded on Christ, set forth in the scriptures ; every 
opponent, therefore, of the papal doctrines, was to be treated as 
an infidel, and as an enemy to Christianity. 

Various measures were adopted to repress the obnoxious doc- 
trines. As early as 1387, commissioners were appointed in many 
parts of the kingdom, who were directed to search for and seize 
the books and tracts of WicklifF, Hereford, and Ash ton, and to 



8 The Disciples of WicUiff. 

send them up to the council. All persons were forbidden to 
defend, maintain, or teach, openly or privately, the opinions set 
forth in those books ; or to keep, copy, buy, or sell them, under 
pain of imprisonment and forfeiture of all their property. Many 
were apprehended in consequence of these measures, and com- 
pelled to abjure, or to sutfer imprisonment, perhaps death. 
Knighton, however, expresses regret that these edicts were 
slowly and taintly executed. The numerous copies of portions 
of WicklifT's writings still extant, are evidences to confirm his 
statement as to the nonsuppression of the Reformer's writings, 
but the indisputable authority of the bishops' registers show 
that very active exertions were made against the Lollards. 

The contest between the English government and the papal 
court was still kept alive by the encroachments of the latter. 
This encouraged the Lollards, or rather those who were the 
outward adherents of Wickliff, to make a bold attack upon the 
ecclesiastics. A parliament was held in 1394, at which they 
presented twelve articles of complaint. These chiefly attacked 
the power and profligacy of the clergy, but the more gross 
errors of popery were also adverted to. A variety of small sati- 
rical papers exposing these errors and vices, were actively 
circulated. The clergy were much alarmed at these open 
proceedings. They sent some of their number to the king, then 
in Ireland, who induced him to return without delay. He sum- 
moned Clitford, Latimer, Montague, and others, and by threats 
prevented them from giving encouragement to the Lollards, 
The pope was not wanting on such an occasion. He addressed 
a letter to the king and prelates; the latter were especially 
admonished that they must no longer be slothful, but must 
njako strenuous efforts " to root out and destroy" their here- 
tical opponents. 

The clergy, in truth, did not deserve these reproaches. 
Courtney had been active in his proceedincrs, and Arundel, who 
succeeded to the primacy in 1:^90, followed his example. 
Immediately atlcr his accession, he held a council at London, 
when eighteen conclusions takim from Wickliff's Trialogus 
were condemned. By order of the prelate, a friar named 
\Voo(U;)rd drew up a long reply to the opinions thus deduced 
fro!n the writings of the Reformer.* 

In the same year, a royal brief was directed to the university 
of Oxford, directing the removal of all Lollards and others sus- 
pected of iieretical pravity. The Trialogus of Wickliff was also 
to be examined, that tlic errors contained therein miglit be 

* It is printed in the Fascinilus Rmiin. The dato nt the conclusion is 
IIW), but Bonio passa^rs show that it was not complettd till the com- 
niMiccmont of the rci<^n of Ilcnry IV. Anuukl's occupation of the see 
of Canterbury was intf^rruptcc!, in conscqurncr of his political intritcuf^s, 
till llic acccse^ion of Hrniy rcplnccd him in power, lie attributed liis 
restoration to the osiM-ciaf inteilerencc of the virgin Mary in his behalf, 
and ordered new acts of worship to her honour! 



Proceedings against the Lollards, 9 

pointed out. In the following year, letters patent were issued, 
forbidding the university to plead any exemption to the pre- 
judice of the royal authority, or in favour and support of Lol- 
lards and heretics. Some unwillingness to proceed against the 
followers of Wickliff probably had been evinced, for archbishop 
Arundel wrote to the chancellor that he was informed almost 
the whole university was touched with heretical pravity. To 
avert the dangers consequent upon such a charge, twelve de- 
legates were appointed, who from fourteen of Wickliff 's tracts 
selected three hundred conclusions as worthy of censure. These 
they sent to the archbishop and the convocation. 

A darker hour was at hand, although the civil discords, which 
terminated in the dethronement and death of Richard II., 
checked the proceedings against the Lollards for a brief in- 
terval, and the accession of the son of John of Gaunt, their 
most zealous patron, excited hopes of protection. These, how- 
ever, were speedily disappointed. Henry IV. was a usurper; 
he felt that he needed the support of the Romish clergy, and at 
once entered decisively into their views. In his first message 
to the convocation, October, 1399, he declared that he never 
would demand money from them except in the most urgent ne- 
cessity : he also promised to protect their immunities, and to 
assist them in exterminating heretics. Arundel and the eccle- 
siastics lost no time in availing themselves of the royal dispo- 
sition in their favour. In the next parliament a law was 
enacted, at the instance of the clergy, forbidding any one to 
preach without leave of his diocesan, and ordaining " that 
none should from thenceforth preach, hold, teach, or instruct, 
openly or privily, or make or write any book contrary to the 
Catholic faith or determination of holy church, or make any 
conventicles or schools." All books of heresy w^ere to be de- 
livered up within forty days. Whoever offended was to be 
arrested by the diocesan, proceeded against according to the 
canons, to be kept in prison, and fined at the discretion of the 
diocesan. "If he refused to abjure, or relapsed, he was to be 
delivered to the sheriff or chief magistrate, to be burned alive, 
in a conspicuous place, for the terror of others !" 

Thus the liberties and immunities of the Romish clergy, or 
in other w^ords, their errors, usurpations, and profligacies, were 
protected by a statute which constituted them sole judges in 
their own cause, and compelled the civil power to put to death 
any one whom they might denounce as differing from them- 
selves in opinion ! It is unnecessary to say that such measures 
evidently originated with the Romish clergy; in fact this law, 
though, as Fox observes, it " cost many a Christian man his 
life," never was legally enacted — it was the act of the king, 
the nobility, and the clergy, without the concurrence of the 
commons. 

The ecclesiastics did not suffer this bloody law to remain an 

WICK. DIS. 22 



10 The Disciples of WicUiff. 

idle letter. During the session wherein it was enacted, William 
Sawtree, priest of St. Osyths, in London, was condemned for 
heresy, cliiefly for denying the doctrine of transubstantiation, 
and refusing to worship the cross. He was burned alive in 
Smithfield, in February, 1401, and was the first of the noble 
band who sealed the truth with their blood, and rejoiced in the 
flames, in the metropolis of our land. 

These cruel proceedings, with the activity used by Arundel 
against the doctrines of truth, by degress repressed the outward 
manifestations of attachment to VVicklifFor his opinions. Titled 
and distinguished leaders no longer appeared among the Lol- 
lards, but their sentiments were entertained in secret by great 
numbers in almost every part of England. In Fox's Acts and 
Monuments will be found details of numerous sufferers, taken 
from the bishops' own registers ; and many documents reprinted 
at length by Wilkins, show both the cruelty and the supersti- 
tion of the prelates of that day. While the Lollards were per- 
secuted with additional ceremonies and acts of worship to the 
virgin and saints.* 

The principal measures which followed may be briefly 
noticed. In 1408, Constitutions were made by archbishop 
Arundel, forbidding any one to call in question what the church 
had determined; and again prohibiting tlie perusal of Wicklifi"s 
writings. Severe measures were taken to clear the university 
of Oxford from Lollards. It was also ordained, " that no one 
thereafter should, by his own authority, translate any text of 
holy scripture into English, or any other language, by way of a 
book, little book, or tract.f And that no such publication com- 
posed in the time of John Wicklifl^ or since, should be read, 
under pain of excommunication, until approved by the diocesan, 
or a provincial council."! 

In the preface to Arundel's Constitutions, the pope is said to 
carry the keys of eternal life and eternal death ; and to be the 
vicegerent of the true God, to whom God had committed the 
government of the kingdom of heaven ! At that time there 

* Amonf; other dociiinrnts may l>o mnitionrd n pn|ial bull, in 1491, 
to inquiro rrspoctiiiijr mirarlrs said to have been worked by ITcnry VF. 
with a view to his canonization! The expense, more than 1500 troldcn 
ducats, probably interfered with this design to make a saint of "the 
meek usiinx.'r." A nianuscrijn in the British Museum contains a list 
of more than fifty miracles (so called) said to have been performed by 
Henry! 

t It has Ions: liecn the policy of tlie church of Rome to impede or 
prevent translations of the bihlc, while its own leij:ends are freely circu- 
lated in many lani^ua^cs. The lyin^ falsehoods respecting the chaixl of 
liOretto are printed for the convenience of pilfrrinis; they are provided 
even in such lanjxuarrps as are not likely to he called for by many pil- 
grims — ns, for instance, the Welsh ! 

I In thes*^ Constitutions of Arundel, the heretics were described as the 
tail of the black liorgo in the apocalypse ! 



Proceedings against the Lollai*ds> 11 

were two popes, each of whom had denounced the other as 
a child of Satan, and shortly after both were deposed by the 
council of Pisa as heretics ! 

The desire to diminish the unnecessary wealth of the eccle- 
siastics was not extinguished. In 1409, it was represented 
to the king in parliament, that if the estates of the bishops, 
abbots, and priors, which they spent in unnecessary pomp and 
luxury, were taken away, the king might support from their 
revenues, 15 earls, 1500 knights, 6200 esquires, and 100 hospi- 
tals, in addition to those which then existed ; leaving a further 
surplusage of ^20,000 yearly to the king. Nor was this a 
vague computation. Various abbeys and other ecclesiastical 
endowments were enumerated, amounting to 322,000 marks 
yearly.* In addition to this large sum, other " houses of re- 
ligion" possessed endowments sufficient to maintain 15,000 
priests. Such a measure was not listened to at that time. 
When renewed at the com.mencement of the following reign, 
the prelates engaged Henry V. in war with France, to divert 
his attention from the subject. But the stone was loosened, and 
a hundred and twenty years after, this important measure re- 
specting the ecclesiastical revenues was partly carried into 
effect. 

In 1411, forty-five articles, attributed to Wickliif, were con- 
demned at London by the prelates and doctors. The first of 
these was, that the substance of bread and wine remain in the 
sacrament of the altar. 

Henry IV. died in 1413, and archbishop Arundel in the fol- 
lowing year; but the proceedings against the Lollards were 
urged forward with still greater activity by Henry V. and 
primate Chicheley. In 1415, enactments yet more severe were 
made. All officers at their admission were ordered to take an 
oath to destroy LoUardy. It has been observed, that "these 
wholesome severities," or "pious rigours," as they were called, 
show that the Romish clergy at this time ceased not to rage 
and roar after Christian blood, like roaring lions. Whosoever 
did the fault, all horrible mischiefs whatsoever were imputed to 
the poor Lollards. Lord Cobham was one of the first victims 
of this reign. 

Further active measures were directed in 1416, whereby 
inquisitors were appointed to search after persons suspected of 
heresy ; also to inform against all who asserted heresies or 
errors, or had suspected books, or " who differed in life and man- 
ners from the common conversation of the faithful." What that 
conversation commonly was, is sufficiently shown, not only by 
the writings of Wickliff, but by the public documents and 
histories of the Romish church ! As Lewis observes, " Now an 
inquisition was set up in every parish, and men were set at 
variance against their own fathers and mothers and nearest 

* A mark vi^as 13s. id. ; equal to about £Vl of our present money. 



12 The Disciples of Wickliff. 

relations. So that oflen a man's greatest foes were those of 
his own household. Bishop Longland's registers, a century 
later, show sisters and brotliers detecting their own brothers 
and sisters, the husband the wife, children their own father and 
mother, the parents their own sons and daughters, masters and 
servants accusing each other.'* In fact every bond of relative 
and social life was dissolved by these measures; general distrust 
became prevalent. Perhaps much of the proceedings during 
the civil wars of York and Lancaster, with the easy transfer of 
allegiance from " the meek Henry," enthralled by the priest- 
hood, may be attributed to the deep felt abhorrence excited by 
these persecutions. 

Lewis continues, " But though these barbarities, so reproach- 
ful to the Christian name and religion, terrified men's minds, 
and forced them to great submission ; yet they no way contri- 
buted to alter their judgments or settle their belief Nay, 
it was very plain, that, though by authority or the secular 
arm, they were devoted to destruction, the VVickliffites were 
oppressed but not extinguished. Though it was made more 
than capital to have even a line of Wickliff 's writings, there 
were those who had courage enough to preserve them, although 
for the crime of having them, some were burned alive with their 
little books. And, indeed, how little these cruelties served to 
convince men, very plainly appeared, when at the Reformation, 
about one hundred years afler, these restraints were moderated 
or quite taken off. The whole nation, whatever their outward 
profession was before, unanimously, as it were, embraced these 
principles, and showed themselves very earnest in their de- 
fence. Although we are now unhappily fallen into an age that 
has lost its first love, and is so generally corrupted both in prin- 
ciple and practice, as to suffer the opposition then made to 
popish tyranny and superstition to be condemned, and the 
cruelties used to force men to approve of them, to be palliated 
and discredited." * The details of these cruelties will be found 
in the martyrologists. 

In 1115, the council of Constance sat, when the articles pre- 
pared by the Oxford delegates were presented. Forty-four 
conclusions were drawn up, said to be found in \Vicklifl"s 
writings, whicii wore condemned as false, heretical, and erro- 
neous. He was declared to have been an obstinate lieretic. 
His bones were ordered to be dug up and cast upon a dung- 
liill, if they could be separated from the bones of the faithful. 
This sentence was not executed till 1428, when pope Martin V. 
sent renewed orders to Fleming, bishop of Lincoln, once a pro- 
fessed favourer of the reformer's doctrine ! The bishop's officers 
accordingly took the mouldering remains from the grave, where 

* Lewis' Life of VVicklifr. ch. viii. These observations were written 
in 1719, but are in some resjiects npiilicahle at the present day. The de- 
Hire fur the writiiiijs of the Refoniiers which has of late been evinced, is. 
however, an encouraging circumstance. 



Proceedings against the Lollards. 13 

they had quietly lain for more than forty years, and burned 
them ! The ashes were cast into an adjoining rivulet called 
Swift. As Fuller beautifully observes, " This brook conveyed 
his ashes into the Avon ; Avon into Severn ; Severn into the 
narrow seas, they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of 
Wickliff are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed 
all the world over." 

Chicheley held the primacy till 1443. The extent of his 
scriptural knowledge appears from a decree, in which he speaks 
of the Lord's day as the seventh day of the week, on which 
God rested after the work of creation ! Although he did not 
so much delight in the open execution of heretics as his pre- 
decessor, several martyrs were committed to the flames, and 
he was not less active in using other means of extermination. 
Some faint attempts at outward reformation were made, but 
these were scarcely more than nominal. A commission, of this 
nature, granted by archbishop Bourchier, in 1455, speaks of 
many of the clergy as ignorant and illiterate, profligate, neg- 
ligent of their cures, while they strolled about the country 
with abandoned females, spending their revenues in luxury and 
debauchery. During this period the error of transubstantiation 
was farther established in England by the withholding of the 
cup from the laity. These documents, and others referred to in 
the present sketch, will be found in Wilkins's Concilia. On 
the accession of Edward IV., in 1462, he obtained the support 
of the clergy by granting them a charter of immunity, whereby 
all civil magistrates were forbidden to take any notice of 
treasons, murders, rapes, robberies, thefts, or other crimes com- 
mitted by archbishops, bishops, priests, deacons, or any person 
in holy orders. What must have been the general character 
of a class of men who could desire, or even accept, such im- 
munities 1 What would have been the reply of Wicklifl* and 
his associates, had such privileges been offered to them ] Nor 
was this all ; it was referred to the clergy at all times, to decide 
whether any person claiming exemption was of their number 
or not ! Many purchased holy orders when accused of crimes 
they had committed, and thus escaped with impunity. The 
ruling ecclesiastics were, as might be supposed, lenient in the 
punishment of vice among the clergy, while the fate of bishop 
Pecock, and others, shows how little favour was extended to 
those who difl^ered as to views of doctrine. 

Edward IV. addressed letters to the university of Oxford, 
urging the suppression of Wickliff*'s and Pecocli's doctrines. 
This letter, with the reply of the university, are among arch- 
bishop Parker's manuscripts in the library of Corpus Christi 
College, Cambridge. The former is printed in the present col- 
lection. 

Morton succeeded to the archbishopric of Canterbury in 1486. 
He called a synod for the reformation of the manners of the 
clergy, but his eflTorts were mostly directed against irregularities 

22* 



14 The Disciples of Wickliff. 

in dress — the preachers of the order of St. John were censured, 
but it was for reproving the vices of the clergy in their ser- 
mons I That there was occasion for them to do so is evident 
from a bull of Innocent VIII. in 1490, grievously complaining 
of the dissolute lives of the monastic orders in England. Mor- 
ton's admonitory letter to the abbot of St. Alban's shows that 
the monks were most detestable miscreants. This primate, 
finding his journeys to London impeded by the ruinous state of 
Rochester bridge, granted remission of the punishment incurred 
for sins for a certain term, to all who assisted in repairing it ! 
Still there were many in the land who bowed not to Baal, as 
appears from the records of martyrs suffering at the close of 
this century, and in the early years of the next. 

During the unsettled state of affairs in the middle of the fif- 
teenth century, we do not find that many had suffered publicly 
for the truth ; as Fuller observes, " The very storm was their 
shelter, and the heat of these intestine commotions cooled the 
persecutions against them." Towards its close the scenes of 
persecution were renewed. The annals of martyrdom then be- 
come more full; they present numerous records of suffering. 

The divine judgments might well be expected to fall heavily 
upon a land where evil so much abounded ; where the doctrines 
of the truth had been so plainly set forth and rejected ; and 
where the blood of the followers of Christ was so freely shed. 
Judgments came upon England. Famine, pestilence, and war, 
foreign and domestic, depopulated the country to a terrific 
extent. This is proved by parliamentary enactments, and the 
testimony of eye-witnesses to the ruined villages, uncultivated 
fields, and decayed towns. There is good reason to believe 
that the whole population of England and Scotland, at the 
termination of the civil wars of York and Lancaster, did not 
amount to three millions! Rich and ]x>werful families ex- 
perienced sudden reverses; those who had revelled at home in 
pomp and luxury, were seen begging their bread in foreign 
lands. We may easily suppose the misery of the lower classes, 
whore neither person nor property were secure.* Yet such 
limes are described by Romish historians of the present day, 
with unblushing effrontery, as days of happiness in England, 
almost equalling the golden ages of poetic fiction ! But it 
may be asked, wherein were thoy superior to preceding cen- 
turies or to tliose that liave followed I — Tiiey were the reverse, 
as appears from the public documents of the Romish ecclesi- 

* Tho civil powrr in the dark airoa war^ unablo to jircporvo public peace. 
This led to deadly fiMids. and prct(\\ta f<»r |>lund(r woxc cnsily found where 
snlficicnt power existed. The council of Clermont ordered that all vio- 
lence should l>e suspended from sunset on VVetlnesday to sunrise on Mon- 
day, calling it the truce of God. Cirateful, indeed, were the people at 
lar^p for an enactment hv which they pa.sscd so large a portion of the 
week in i)racc, instead of beini; in poril every hour. The scenes which 
took place on the other two days and nights of ti^'- worU mnv ho Vutter 
supposed than described. 



Dr. Colet. 15 

astics themselves, which have been preserved. We know 
from divine authority that the poor will never cease from out 
of the land ; in the mysterious but wise dispensations of pro- 
vidence, much outward suffering will exist at all times in this 
world of sin and sorrow, and true history never yet has record- 
ed a people as prosperous or happy, when sinning as a nation 
against the Most High, or when suifering under divine judg- 
ments deservedly sent upon their country. 

In the following pages will be found some pieces relative to 
the Lollards, and the proceedings of their oppressors during 
the fifteenth century. Among the most valuable are the his- 
tory of lord Cobham and the examinations of Thorpe. The 
Lantern of Light will also be read with interest, as a produc- 
tion of the immediate followers of the Reformer. Other pieces 
in this volume carry us to that period when the light of the 
German reformation shone upon the plants which had sprung 
up from the seeds so widely sown by Wickliff. 



Meanwhile, as in former ages, the operations of divine grace 
were not limited to any one class of men. Although the Lol- 
lards were the main instruments of diffusing the truth, and of 
preparing the way for the English Reformation of the sixteenth 
century, there were some, even within the Romish church in 
England, who loved the Saviour, and looked to him alone for 
salvation; and others who opposed the cruel persecutions urged 
forward by their associates. 

A brief specimen of the first of these will be found in the 
extract from the writings of Walter Hilton, a monk who lived 
soon afler WicklifF. Of the latter class was bishop Pecock, 
whose melancholy history shows us one of those who allow 
their prejudices or connexions to lead them to oppose and keep 
aloof from the real followers of Christ, on account of outward 
differences, while they are inwardly convinced of the reliorious 
truths they maintain, and, there is ground to hope, partakers 
of like precious faith. 

x\nother and still more valuable character, connected with 
the church of Rome, but in reality a forerunner of the Refor- 
mation, was Dr. John Colet ; a narrative respecting him is 
o-iven by Fox, with which this sketch of the disciples of Wick- 
liff and the precursors of the British Reformers may be con- 
cluded. 

"x\bout this time, a. d. 1.519, died doctor John Colet; to 
whose sermons the known men (or Lollards) about Bucking- 
hamshire, had great mind to resort. Afler he came from Italy 
and Paris, he first began to read the epistles of St. Paul openly 



16 Dr. Colet. 

in Oxford, instead of Scotus and Thomas Aquinas. From 
thence he was called by the king and made dean of Paul's ; 
where he preached much to great auditories of the king's court, 
the citizens, and others. His diet was frugal, his life upright, 
in discipline he was severe. So that his canons, because of 
their straiter rule, complained that they were made like monks. 
The honest and honourable state of matrimony he ever pre- 
ferred before the unchaste singleness of priests. At his din- 
ner, commonly was read either some chapter of St. Paul, or of 
Solomon's Proverbs. He never used to sup. And although 
the blindness of that time carried him away after the common 
errors of popery, yet in ripeness of judgment he seemed to in- 
cline from the common manner of that age. The orders of 
monks and friars he fancied not. Neither could he greatly 
favour the barbarous divinity of the school doctors, as of Sco- 
tus, but least of all of Thomas Aquinas. Insomuch that when 
Erasmus, speaking in praise of Thomas Aquinas, commended 
him that he had read many old authors, and had written many 
new works, to prove and to know his judgment, Colet, suppos- 
ing that Erasmus meant good faith, burst out in great vehe- 
mence, saying, ' What tell you me of the commendation of 
that man, who except he had been of an arrogant and pre- 
sumptuous spirit, would not define and discuss all things so 
boldly and rashly ; and also except he had been rather worldly 
minded than heavenly, would never have so polluted Christ's 
whole doctrine with man's profane doctrine, in such sort as he 
hath done.' 

" The bishop of London at that time was Fitzjames, aged no 
less than eighty ; who, bearing long grudge and displeasure 
against Colet, with other two bishops taking his part, like to 
himself, complained against Colet to archbishop Warham. 
The complaint was divided into three articles. The first was 
for speaking against worshipping of images. The second was 
about hospitality, for that he in treating upon the place of the 
gospel, * Feed, feed, feed,' John xxi. when he had expounded 
the two first, for feeding with example of life and with doc- 
trine, in the third, which the schoolmen expound for feeding 
with hospitality, lie left out the outward feeding of the belly, 
and applied it another way. The third crime wlierewith they 
charged him, was for speaking against such as used to preach 
only by bosom sermons,* declaring nothing else to the people, 
but as they bring in their papers with them. Which, because 
the bishop of Ix)ndon then used much to do, for his age, he took 
it as spoken against him, and therefore bare him this displea- 
sure. The archbishop, more wisely weighing the matter, and 
being well acquainted with Colet, so took his part against his 
accusers, that he at that time was rid out of trouble. 

* Written sermons, carried about in the bosoms of the proachfrs. 



Br. Colet. 17 

" William Tindal, in his book answering master More, testi- 
fies that the bishop of London would have made dean Colet a 
heretic for translating the Paternoster into English, had not the 
archbishop of Canterbury holpen the dean ! 

" But yet the malice of bishop Fitzjames ceased not ; he prac- 
tised how to accuse Colet unto the king. The king (Henry VIII.) 
was preparing for war against France. Whereupon the bishop, 
w^ith his coadjutors, taking occasion upon certain word^ of Colet, 
wherein he seemed to prefer peace before any kind of war, were 
it ever so just, accused him therefore. And upon Good Friday, 
Dr. Colet, preaching before the king, treated of the victory of 
Christ, exhorting all Christians to fight, under the standard of 
Christ, against the devil ; adding moreover what a hard thing it 
was to fight under Christ's banner, and that all they who upon 
private hatred or ambition took weapon against their enemy one 
Christian to slay another, such did not fight under the banner of 
Christ, but rather of Satan ; and therefore concluding his mat- 
ter, he exhorted that Christian men in their wars would follow 
Christ their Prince and Captain, in fighting against their enemies, 
rather than the example of Julius or Alexander, &c. The king, 
fearing lest by his words the hearts of his soldiers might be 
withdrawn from his war, took Colet, and talked with him alone 
in his garden walking. His enemies thought now that Colet 
must be committed to the Tower, and waited for his coming 
out. But the king with great gentleness entertaining Dr. Colet, 
bidding him familiarly to put on his cap, in long courteous talk 
much commended his learning and integrity of life, agreeing 
with him in all points, only he required him, for that the rude 
soldiers should not rashly mistake that which he had said, more 
plainly to explain his words and mind in that behalf, which after 
he did ; and so after long communication and great promises, 
the king dismissed Colet with these words, saying, ' Let every 
man have his doctor as him liketh ; this shall be my doctor,' 
and so departed. Whereby none of his adversaries durst ever 
trouble him after that time. 

"Among many other memorable acts left behind him, he 
erected a worthy foundation of the school of Paul's; I pray God 
the fruits of the school may answer the foundation, for the 
cherishing of youth in good letters. He provided a sufficient 
stipend as well for the master as for the usher, whom he willed 
rather to be appointed out of the number of married men, than 
of single priests with their suspected chastity. The first master 
of the school was William Lily." 

Dr. Colet was born in London, a. d. 1466. He was of Mag- 
dalen-college, Oxford, and held various ecclesiastical prefer- 
ments, but his wealth was chiefly patrimonial. Some of his 
writings have been preserved ; the principal is a faithful sermon 
preached before the convocation in 1511. 



I 



A 

BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF 

THOMAS BILNEY; 

TO WHICH ARE SUBJOINED HIS LETTERS TO 

BISHOP TONSTAL. 



Thomas Bilney was brought up in the university of 
Cambridge from an early age. He made considerable pro- 
ficiency in study, particularly in the civil and canon law. 
But, as Fox expresses it, " Having gotten a better school- 
master, even the Holy Spirit of Christ, who endued his 
heart by secret inspiration., with the knowledge of better 
and more wholesome things, he came at the last unto this 
point, that forsaking the knowledge of man's laws, he con- 
verted his study to those things which tended more to god- 
liness than gain." 

He was anxious to teach others the truths he had learned. 
Among other seals to his ministry was that faithful servant 
of Christ Hugh Latimer. In the Acts and Monuments of 
John Fox, the reader will find a particular account of the 
life and martyrdom of Bilney ; in these pages only a brief 
notice can be inserted, as an introduction to the small, yet 
important written remains of this martyr, which have been 
preserved by the enemies of the truth. 

Leaving the university, Bilney travelled into several 
parts of the country, accompanied by Thomas Arthur, 
another of the seals to his ministry. The scriptural doc- 
trines he taught were frequently attacked by the Romanists 
and were powerfully defended by him. One memorial of 
these controversies has been preserved by his opponent, a 
friar Brusierd of Ipswich, who wrote down their conference 
to make it a ground of accusation against Bilney. We can- 
not suppose that this singular document does full justice to 

255 



256 Bilney. 

the reformer, but it contains sufficient proof of the scrip- 
tural origin of the doctrines he taught, while it shows the 
fallacies advanced by the popish advocate. 

The friar objected to Bilney, " Whereas you have said 
that none of the saints make intercession for us, nor obtain 
for us any thing, you have blasphemed the efficacy (power) 
of the church, consecrated with the precious blood of Christ; 
which, nevertheless, you are not able to deny, seeing they 
(the church) incessantly knock at the gates of heaven, 
through the continual intercession of the saints, as is plainly 
set forth in the seven-fold Litany." 

Bilney referred to the text, " There is but one Mediator 
between God and man, the man Christ Jesus;" and asked, 
" If there be but one Mediator between God and man, even 
Christ Jesus, where is our blessed lady? where is St. Peter, 
and the other saints?" 

The friar admitted that such was the doctrine of the pri- 
mitive church, and that St. Paul was right in making such 
a statement, " when as yet there was no saint canonized, 
nor put into the calendar!" but " now the church assuredly 
knew and believed, that the blessed virgin, and the other 
saints, were placed in the bosom of Abraham; and that the 
church, like a good mother, diligently taught her children 
to praise the omnipotent Jesus in his saints, and also to 
offer up by the same saints our petitions to God!" 

To this sophistical argument, Bilney replied, by quoting 
the words of our Saviour, " Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father, in my name, he will 
give it unto you;" adding, " He saith not, \\'hatsoever ye 
ask the Father in the name of St. Peter, St. Paul, and other 
saints; but in mij name. Let us, then, ask help in the 
name of Ilim who is able to obtain for us of the Father 
whatsoever we ask ; lest, at the day of judgment, we should 
hear him say, " iliiherto have ye asked nothing in my 
name." The friar could not evade the force of this reason- 
ing, but endeavoured to entangle Bilney in a scholastic 
argument, and a disoussion respecting the authority of the 
church of Rome. Bilney, However, was too well informed 
to be so caught; and again referred to Scripture, inquiring 
if the friar knew the ten commandments. His answer de- 
serves notice; "According as th(^ catholic doctors do ex- 
pound them, I know them." The remainder of their con- 
ference was very similar to what is already given. 

As Fox states, " The whole sum of Bilney's preaching 



His examination. 257 

and doctrine proceeded chiefly against idolatry, invocation 
of saints, vain worship of images, false trust to men's me- 
rits, and such other gross points of religion, as seemed pre- 
judicial and derogatory to the blood of our Saviour Jesus 
Christ. As touching the mass and sacrament of the altar, 
he never differed thereon from the grossest (Roman) ca- 
tholics." 

In November, 1527, Bilney and Arthur were apprehend- 
ed by command of cardinal Wolsey, who after a short ex- 
amination committed their further examination to Tonstal, 
bishop of London, a decided Romanist, though milder than 
his brethren in his proceedings against the protestants.* Fox 
gives the particulars of their examinations from the bishop's 
own register, wherein Tonstal, with scrupulous fideHty, 
caused several letters written to him by Bilney to be in- 
serted. Fox states, 

" The third day of December, the bishopof London with 
the other bishops, assembling at the house of the bishop of 
Norwich, after that Bilney had denied utterly to return to 
the church of Rome, the bishop of London in discharge of 
his conscience, as he said, lest he should hide any thing 
that had come to his hands, exhibited unto the notaries, in 
the presence of Bilney, five letters or epistles, with a sche- 
dule in one of the epistles,! containing his articles and an- 
swers folded therein, and another epistle folded in manner 
of a book, with six leaves; which all and every one he 
commanded to be written out and registered, and the origi- 
nals to be delivered to him again. This was done in the 
presence of Bilney, desiring a copy of them ; and the bishop 
bound the notaries with an oath, for the safe keeping of the 
copies, and true registering of the same. Which articles 
and answers, with three of the same epistles, with certain 
depositions deposed by the aforesaid witness, here follow, 
truly drawn out, partly of his own hand- writing, and partly 
out of the register." 

A brief account of some of the depositions against Bil- 
ney will present awful proofs of the spiritual darkness 
which then prevailed, and shows the blindness in which the 
church of Rome sought to retain its votaries. 

It was deposed, that in his sermon in Christ's church in 
Ipswich, Bilney preached and said, Our Saviour Christ is 
our Mediator between us and the Father. What should we 

* See the life of Bernard Gilpin in the Christian Biography, 
t Only three of these letters are printed by Fox. 



258 Bilney. 

need then to seek any saint for remedy? Wherefore, it is 
great injury to the blood of Christ, to make such petitions, 
and blasphemeth our Saviour. 

That man is so unperfect of himself, that he can in no 
wise merit by his own deeds. 

Also, that the coming of Christ was long prophesied be- 
fore, and desired by the prophets. But John Baptist being 
more than a prophet, did not only prophesy, but with his 
finger showed him, saying. Behold the Lamb of God that 
taketh away the sins of the world. Then if this were the 
very Lamb which John did demonstrate, that taketh away 
the sins of the world, what an injury is it to our Saviour 
Christ, to say that to be buried in St. Francis's cowl,* should 
remit four parts of penance: what is then left to our Saviour 
Christ, which taketh away the sins of the world? This I 
will justify to be a great blasphemy to the blood of Christ. 

Also, that it was a great folly to go on pilgrimage, and 
that preachers in times past have been antichrists, and now 
it hath pleased God somewhat to show forth their falsehood 
and errors. 

Also, that the miracles done at Walsingham, at Canter- 
bury, and there in Ipswich, were done by the devil, through 
the sufferance of God, to blind the poor people; and that 
the pope hath not the keys that Peter had, except he follow 
Peter in his living. 

Moreover, it was deposed against him, that he was no- 
toriously suspected as a heretic, and twice pulled out of the 
pulj)it in the diocese of Norwich. 

Also it was deposed against him, that he should in the 
parish church of VVillcsdon, exhort the people to put away 
their gods of silver and gold, and leave their offerings unto 
them, for that such things as they offered have been known 
oftentimes afterward to have been given to harlots. Also 
that Jews and Saracens would have become Christian men 
long ago, had it not been for the idolatry of Christian men 
in offering of candles, wax, and money, to stocks and stones. 

ToDstal was particularly desirous not to proceed to 

* To be buried in a friar's cast-oflf liabit, accompanied by letters, 
enrolling tbe deceased in a monastic order, was accounted a sure de- 
liverance from eternal condemnation I In Piers tlie Ploug-hinan's 
creed a friar is described as whcudlinir a poor man out of his money, 
by assuring bim tliat if he will contribute to bis monastery, 
St. Francis bimself sliall fold thee in bis cope, 
And present tbec to the Trinity, and pray for thy sins. 
King John was buried in a monk's cowl! See note, p. 158. 



His recantation and sorroivs. 259 

extremities with Bilney. He repeatedly remanded him to 
give time for reflection, and even after reading a part of 
the sentence deferred the remainder. These continued at- 
tacks upon the constancy of Bilney were seconded by se- 
veral friends of the reformer, and probably were of greater 
efficacy than severer measures. We find that at length he 
recanted ; he was released after carrying a fagot in a Rom- 
ish procession, and standing bareheaded before the preacher 
at Paul's cross, during the sermon. In this recantation he 
admitted the worship of saints, and prayer to them, also 
that men could merit by their deeds. 

Bilney returned to Cambridge after his abjuration, deep- 
ly lamenting and sorrowing for his weakness. He was 
almost brought into a state of utter desperation, as Latimer 
described in his sermons.* He relates that Bilney 's agony 
of mind was so great, " that his friends dared not suffer 
him to be alone day or night. They comforted him as 
they could, but no comforts would serve. And as for the 
comfortable places of Scripture, to bring them to him was 
as though a man should run him through the heart with a 
sword." 

Fox, or rather archbishop Parker,f whose narrative of 
Bilney's martyrdom he inserts, proceeds thus: — 

By this it appears how vehemently this good man was 
pierced with sorrow and remorse for his abjuration, the 
space almost of two years, that is, from the year 1529, to 
the year 1531. It followed then, that by God's grace and 
good counsel he came at length to some quiet of conscience, 
being fully resolved to give his life for the confession of 
that truth, which before he had renounced. And thus be- 
ing fully determined in his mind, and setting his time, he 
took his leave in Trinity Hall at ten of the clock at night, 
of certain of his friends, and said that he w^ould go to Jeru- 
salem ; alluding belike to the words and example of Christ 
in the gospel, going up to Jerusalem,:]: what time he was 
appointed to suffer his passion. And so Bilney, meaning to 

* See Latimer, p. 56, 115, 260. 

t Archbishop Parker, then resident at the university, went from 
Cambridge to Norwich to witness the martyrdom of Bilney, for 
whom he entertained a warm affection. He was thus enabled to 
bear testimony to the faithful adherence of the martyr to the truth 
during" his last moments, in contradiction to the assertions of Sir 
Thomas More, who falsely declared that Bilney had recanted at the 
stake. A particular statement respecting this is given by Fox, sup- 
ported by several undoubted testimonies. 

t Or probably to the words of St. Paul, Acts xix. 21., xx. 22. 



260 Bilney. 

give over his life for the testimony of Christ's gospel, told 
his friends that he would go up to Jerusalem, and so would 
see them no more, and immediately departed to Norfolk, 
and there preached, first privately in households to confirm 
the brethren and sisters, and also to confirm the anchoress* 
whom he had converted to Christ. Then preached he 
openly in the fields, confessing his fact, and preaching pub- 
licly that doctrine which he before had abjured, to be the 
very truth, and willed all men to beware by him, and 
never to trust to their fleshly friends in causes of religion. 
And so setting forward in his journey toward the celestial 
Jerusalem, he departed from thence to the anchoress in 
Norwich, and there gave her a New Testament of Tindal's 
translation, and The Obedience of a Christian Man ; where- 
upon he was apprehended and carried to prison, there to 
remain, till the blind bishop Nixf sent up for a writ to 
burn him. 

In the mean season, the friars and religious men, with 
the residue of their doctors, civil and canon, resorted to 
him, busily labouring to persuade him not to die in those 
opinions, saying, he should be damned body and soul, if 
he so continued. Among whom, first were sent to him of 
the bishop, doctor Call, minister, as they call him, or pro- 
vincial of the Gray Friars: and doctor Stokes, an Augus- 
tine friar, who lay with him in prison in disputation, till 
the writ came that he should be burned. Doctor Call, by 
the word of God, through the means of Bilney's doctrine, 
and good life, whereof he had good experience, was some- 
what reclaimed to the gospel's side. 

The order of his martyrdom was this, as follows: — 
Thomas Rilncy, aflcr his examination and condemna- 
tion, was degraded, according to the popish custom, by the 
assistance of all the friars and doctors of the same suit. 
Which done, he was immediately committed to the lay 
power, and to the two sheriffs of the city, of whom Thomas 
Necton was one. This Thomas Necton was Bilney's spe- 
cial good friend, and sorry to accept him to such execution 

* A sort of nun, or female hermit. 

t Nix, bishop of Norwich, was a bitter persecutor, and ever ready 
lo ficnd the followers of the truth to the fire, telling them wlien 
broujrlit before him, that they smelt of the fryinp^-pan. He endea- 
voured to prevent the circulation of the reformers' books, especially 
TindaTs New Testament, " which he could not endure to be read." 
At this tiuie he was fourscore years of age, infirm and blind, " blind 
both in body and soul." 



His faith and constancy. 261 

as followed. But such was the tyranny of that time, and 
the dread of the chancellor and friars, that he could no 
otherwise do, but needs must receive him;^ who notwith- 
standing, as he could not bear in his conscience himself to 
be present at his death : so, for the time that he was in his 
custody, he caused him to be more friendly looked unto, and 
more wholesomely kept, concerning his diet, than he was 
before. 

After this, the Friday following, at night, which was 
before the day of his execution, being St. Magnus day and 
Saturday, the said Bilney had divers of his friends resort- 
ing unto him in the guildhall, where he was kept. Amongst 
whom one of the said friends finding him eating of an ale- 
brewf with such a cheerful heart and quiet mind as he did, 
said that he was glad to see him at that time, so shortly 
before his heavy and painful departure, so heartily to refresh 
himself. Whereunto he answered, " I follow the example 
of the husbandmen of the country, who having a ruinous 
house to dwell in, yet bestow cost as long as they may, to 
hold it up ; and so do I now with this ruinous house of my 
body, and with God's creatures, in thanks to him, refresh 
the same as ye see." Then sitting with his said friends in 
godly talk, to their edification, some put him in mind, that 
though the fire which he should suffer the next day, should 
be of great heat unto his body, yet the comfort of God's 
Spirit should cool it to his everlasting refreshing. At this 
word Bilney putting his hand toward the flame of the candle 
burning before them (as also he did divers times besides) 
and feeling the heat thereof, said, " I feel by experience, and 
have known it long by philosophy, that fire, by God's ordi- 
nance is naturally hot; but yet 1 am persuaded by God's 
holy word, and by the experience of some spoken of in the 
same, that in the flame they felt no heat, and in the fire 
they felt no consumption; and I constantly believe, that 
howsoever the stubble of this my body shall be wasted by 
it, yet my soul and spirit shall be purged thereby : a pain 
for the time, whereon notwithstanding followeth joy un- 
>speakable." And then he much treated of this place of 
Scripture : " Fear not, for I have redeemed thee, and called 

* Master More being- lord chancellor, when the message was sent 
to him for a writ of discharge to burn Bilney, speaks in this wise to 
the messengers that came : " Go your ways, and burn him first, and 
then afterward come to me for a bill of my hand." — Fox, 

t Or posset. 

WICK. r>is. 43 



262 Bilney. 

thee by thy name, thou art mine own. When thou goest 
through the water, I will be with thee, and the strong 
floods shall not overflow thee. When thou walkest in the 
fire it shall not burn thee, and the flame shall not kindle 
upon thee, for I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of 
Israel," Isaiah xliii. Which he did most comfortably entreat 
of, as well in respect of himself, as applying it to the par- 
ticular use of his friends there present, of whom some took 
such sweet fruit therein that they caused the whole said 
sentence to be fairly written in tables, and some in their 
books. The comfort whereof, in divers of them, was never 
taken from them to their dying day. 

The Saturday next following, when the officers of exe- 
cution, as the manner is, with their gleaves and halberds 
were ready to receive him, and to lead him to the place of 
execution without the city gate, called Bishop's gate, in a 
low valley, commonly called the Lollard's pit, under St. 
Leonard's hill, environed about with great hills — which 
place was chosen for the people's quiet sitting to see the 
execution — at the coming forth of Bilney out of the prison 
door, one of his friends came to him, and with few words, 
as he durst, spake to him, and prayed him in God's behalf 
to be constant, and to take his death as patiently as he 
could. Whereunto the said Bilney answered, with a quiet 
and mild countenance: "Ye see when the mariner is en- 
tered his ship to sail on the troublous sea, how he for a 
while is tossed in the billows of the same; but yet in hope 
that he shall once come to the quiet haven, he beareth in 
better comfort the perils which he feeleth: so am I now 
toward this sailing, and whatsoever storms I sliall feel, yet 
shortly afler shall my ship be in the haven; as I doubt not 
thereof by the grace of God, desiring you to help me with 
your prayers to the same effect." 

And so he going forth in the streets, giving much alms 
by the way by the hands of one of his friends, and accompa- 
nied with one doctor Warner, doctor of divinity, and parson 
of Winterton, whom he did choose as his old acquaintance, 
to \ye with him for his spiritual comfort; came at the last 
to the place of execution, and descended down from the hill 
to the same, apparelled in a layman's gown, with his sleeves 
hanging down, and his arms out, his hair being piteously 
mangled at his degradation; a liltln single* body in person, 
but always of a good upright countenance, and drew near to 
* Slight. 



His Execution. 263 

the stake prepared ; and somewhat tarrying the preparation 
of the fire, he desired that he might speak some words to 
the people, and there standing, thus he said : 

" Good people, I am come hither to die, and born I was 
to hve under that condition, naturally to die again; and 
that ye might testify that I depart out of this present life as 
a true Christian man, in a right belief towards almighty 
God, I will rehearse unto you in a fast faith, the articles of 
my creed." He then began to rehearse them in order as 
they are in the common creed, often elevating his eyes and 
hands to almighty God; and at the article of Christ's in- 
carnation, having a little meditation in himself, and coming 
to the word, crucified, he humbly bowed himself and made 
great reverence; and so he proceeded on, without any man- 
ner of words of recantation, or charging any man for pro- 
curing him to his death. 

This once done, he put oif his gown, and went to the 
stake, and kneeling upon a little ledge coming out of the 
stake, whereon he should afterward stand to be better seen, 
he made his private prayer with such earnest elevation of 
his eyes and hands to heaven, and in so good quiet beha- 
viour, that he seemed not much to consider the terror of 
his death, and ended at the last his private prayers with 
the cxliii. psalm, beginnings " Hear my prayer, O Lord, 
consider my desire:" and the next verse he repeated in 
deep meditation, thrice, " And enter not into judgment 
with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man living be 
justified :" and so finishing that psalm, he ended his private 
prayers. 

After that, he turned himself to the ofticers, asking them 
if they were ready, and they answered. Yea. Whereupon 
he put oft" his jacket and doublet, and stood in his hose and 
shirt, and went unto the stake, standing upon that ledge, 
and the chain was cast about him; and standing thereon, 
the said doctor Warner came to him to bid him farewell, 
who spake but few words for weeping. 

Upon whom the said Thomas Bilney did most gently 
smile, and inclined his body to speak to him a few words 
of thanks, and the last were these: " O master doctor, 
'' Feed your flock, feed your flock, that when the Lord 
cometh he may find you so doing: and farewell, good 
master doctor, and pray for me ;" and so he departed with- 
out any answer, sobbing and weeping. 

And while he thus stood upon the ledge at the stake, 



264 Bilney. 

certain friars, doctors, and priors of their houses, being 
there present, as they were uncharita])ly and maliciously 
present at his examination and degradation, &c. came to 
him, and said, " O master Bilney, the people are persuaded 
that we are the causers of youV death, and that we have 
procured the same, and thereupon it is like that they will 
withdraw their charitable alms from us all, except you de- 
clare your charity towards us, and discharge us of the 
matter." Whereupon the said Thomas Bilney spake with a ^ 
loud voice to the people, and said, " I pray you, good peo- 
ple, be never the worse to these men for my sake, as though 
they should be the authors of my death; it was not they." 
And so he ended. 

Then the officers put reeds and fagots about his body and 
set fire on the reeds, which made a very great flame that 
sparkled and deformed the visor of his face, he holding up 
liis hands, and knocking upon his breast, crying sometimes 
" Jesus," sometimes " I believe." Which flame was blown 
away from him by the violence of the wind, which was that 
day, and two or three days before, notably great, in which 
it was said that the fields were marvellously plagued by 
the loss ol* corn : and so for a little pause he stood without 
flame, the flame departing and recoursing thrice ere the 
wood took strength to be the sharper to consume him : and 
then he gave up the ghost, and his body being withered, 
bowed downward upon the chain. Then one of the offi- 
cers, with his halberd, smote out the staple in the stake be- 
hind him, and suflered his body to fall into the bottom of 
the fire, laying wood on it, and so he was consumed.* 

* From Bilney's first letter to Bishop Tonstal, it will be seen that 
his conversion was rather by tlie direct influences of the Holy 
Spirit, opening liis mind to study the Scriptures, than by any hu- 
man instruction as means. Several articles exhibited a^rainst him 
indicate a prreater siniilarity in his tenets to those of the followers of 
Wickliff, than to the German reformers, we may therefore class him 
with the former, although lie differed from them in some respects. 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF THE 

LIFE OF WILLIAM TINDAL, 

MARTYR, 1536. 



William Tindal was born about the year 1500, on the borders 
of Wales, and was sent at an early age to Magdalen hall, in 
the University of Oxford. He was generally esteemed for his 
virtuous conduct and learning, and especially applied himself 
to the study of the scriptures. He also became acquainted with 
the writings of Luther and Erasmus, and privately instructed 
his fellow-students in scriptural truth. On account of his abi- 
lities, Tindal received an appointment in cardinal Wolsey's 
newly-founded college, but becoming suspected of Lutheranisra, 
he was imprisoned, and being compelled to leave the university 
of Oxford, he removed to Cambridge. 

When Tindal had finished his studies, he became tutor in 
the family of sir John Welch, of Little Sodbury, in Gloucester- 
shire. Here he had access to many of the clergy, with whom 
he conferred on religious subjects, frequently engaging in dispu- 
tations with those who were the most strenuous supporters of 
the papacy. The knight and his lady were much surprised at 
the boldness of their tutor, and returning one day from a ban- 
quet, to which they had been invited by some dignified ecclesi- 
astics, they repeated some of the trite arguments advanced by 
the priests. Tindal, answering by the scriptures, maintained the 
truth, and reproved their false opinions. Then said lady Welch, 
"Well, there was such a doctor, who may spend a hundred 
pounds, and another two hundred pounds, and another three 
hundred pounds; and what, were it reason, think you, that we 

TINDAL. 1 



2 Tindal. 

should believe you before them 7" To this personal argument, 
Tindal found it was unavailing to reply at that time, but shortly 
after he presented the knight and his lady with a translation 
he had made of a work written by Erasmus, called, The Ma- 
nual of a Christian Soldier. They were impressed by its con- 
tents, and no longer gave the same entertainment and counte- 
nance to the ignorant and immoral Romish doctors. This the 
priests attributed to Tindal, and speedily began to manifest 
their hatred against him. Being summoned to appear before 
the chancellor of the diocese, he prayed earnestly to God to 
give him strength to stand fast in the truth of his w^ord. He 
was protected ; none of his accusers came forward, and he was 
dismissed with a reprimand. 

There dwelt, not far off, a certain doctor, who had formerly 
been chancellor to a bishop, but who was an intimate friend of 
Tindal. The reformer went to him, and opened his mind upon 
several subjects relating to the scriptures: after conversing 
thereon, the ancient doctor said, " Do you not know that the 
pope is very antichrist, whom the scripture speaketh of? But 
beware what you say: for if you shall be perceived to hold 
that opinion, it will cost you your life ;" adding, " I have been 
an officer of his, but I have given it up, and defy him and all 
his works." There is, indeed, good reason to believe that from 
the days of WicklifF, many individuals in England secretly 
held the truth. 

Far different was the opinion of another divine, accounted 
a learned man, with whom Tindal reasoned not long after. 
Being hard pressed by the arguments of truth, he broke out 
into this blasphemous expression, " We had better be with- 
out God's laws than the pope's!"* Tindal, filled with godly 
indignation, replied, "I defy tlie pope, and all his laws;" adding, 
that if God spared his life, ere many years he would cause the 
boys that drove the plough to know more of the scripture than /l 
his opponent: a memorable declaration, which was accom- 
plished, and blessed be God, we still see it fulfilled in our land. 

The Romish priests now troubled Tindal still more, and he 



* FrasmiiP, in his nnnotntions on 1 Tim. i. mrnnons prvrral of iho 
blapplirnious (lispiifations offrn niaiTitaincd in llio scliools; amon^ 
thc!in was, " Wliethcr the pope be not more merciful than Christ was, 
since we do not read that Christ ever recalled any from the pains of 
purgatory." 



Life. 3 

found it became dangerous for him to remain in that part of the 
country. He therefore took leave of his friends, and went to 
London. From the preface to his translation of the five books 
of Moses, it appears that Tindal had then resolved to translate 
the new testament into English : but his views and proceedings 
are best stated in his own words. Speaking of the papists he 
says : — 

" A thousand books had they rather to be put forth against 
their abominable doings and doctrine, than that the scripture 
should come to light. For as long as they may keep that down, 
they will so darken the right way with the mist of their so- 
phistry, and so tangle them that either rebuke or despise their 
abominations, with arguments of philosophy, and w^ith worldly 
similitudes and apparent reasons of natural wisdom ; and with 
wresting the scripture unto their own purpose, clean contrary 
unto the process, order, and meaning of the text ; and so delude 
them in descanting upon it with allegories ; and amaze them, 
expounding it in many senses before the unlearned lay people, 
when it hath but one simple, literal sense, whose light the owls 
cannot abide, that though thou feelest in thine heart, and art 
sure, that all is false which they say, yet thou couldest not solve 
their subtle riddles. 

" Which thing only moved me to translate the new testament. 
Because I had perceived by experience that it was impossible 
to establish the lay people in any truth, except the scriptures 
were plainly laid before their eyes in their mother tongue, that 
they might see the process, order, and meaning of the text: for 
else, whatsoever truth is taught them, these enemies of all truth 
quench it again, partly with the smoke of their bottomless pit, 
whereof thou readest in the Apocalypse, chap. ix. ; that is, with 
apparent reasons of sophistry, and traditions of their own 
making, founded without ground of scripture, and partly in 
juggling with the text, expounding it in such a sense as is im- 
possible to gather from the text, if thou see the process, order, 
and meaning thereof. 

" And even in the bishop of London's house* I intended to 
have done it. For I was so turmoiled in the country where I 
was, that I could no longer dwell there. 

"The bishop of London came to my remembrance, whom 

*Tonstal, afterwards bishop of Durham, the most moderate of the 
Romish prelates. See the life of Bernard Gilpin. 



4 Tindal. 

Erasmus (wliose tongue maketh, of little gnats, great elephants, 
and lifts up above the stars whosoever gives him a little exhi- 
bition) praises exceedingly, among others, in his Annotations on 
the new testament, for his great learning. Then, thought I, if 
I might come to this man's service, I were happy. And so I 
gat me to London, and, through the acquaintance of my master, 
came to sir Harry Guildford, the king's grace's comptroller, and 
brought him an oration of Isocrates, which I had translated 
out of Greek into English, and desired him to speak unto my 
lord of London for me ; which he also did as he showed me, and 
willed me to write an epistle to my lord, and to go to him my- 
self, which I also did, and delivered my epistle to a servant of 
his own, one William Hebilthwayte, a man of mine old ac- 
quaintance. But God, who knows what is within hypocrites, 
saw that I was beguiled, and that this counsel was not the next 
way unto my purpose, and therefore he gave me no favour in 
my. lord's sight. 

" Whereupon my lord answered me, his house was full, he had 
more than he could well find, and advised me to seek in London, 
where he said I could not lack a service. And so in London I 
abode almost a year, and marked the course of the world, and 
heard our praters, I would say our preachers, how they boasted 
themselves and their high authority ; and beheld the pomp of 
our prelates, and how busy they were, as they yet are, to set 
peace and unity in the world, though it be not possible for them 
that walk in darkness to continue long in peace, for they cannot 
but either stumble or dash themselves at one thing or another 
that shall clean unquiet all together ; and I saw things whereof 
I defer to speak at this time ; and understood at the last not only 
that there was no room in my lord of London's palace to trans- 
late the new testament, but also that there was no place to do 
it in all England, as experience now openly declares." 

During his abode in London, Tindal, thus rejected by one 
who professed to be a chief shepherd of Christ's flock, was pro- 
tected and supported in his undertaking by a citizen and draper, 
named Humphry Monmouth, who being afterwards imprisoned 
for having countenanced and assisted Tindal, gave this account 
of his inmate : — 

" Four years and a half past, or more, (about 1523,) I heard 
Bir William Tindal,* otherwise called Hotchens, preach two 

* In those days the title " sir" was usually given to priesta 



or three sermons at St. Dunstan's in the west;" Monmouth 
then relates Tindal's disappointment from the bishop, and that 
he requested his assistance, and proceeds, " I took him into my 
house half a year, and there he lived like a good priest as me- 
thought He studied most part of the day and the night at his 
book, and by his good will he would eat but sodden meat, nor 
drink but small single beer. I never saw him wear linen about 
him in the space he was with me.* I promised him ten pounds 
sterling to pray for my father and mother's souls, and all Chris- 
tian souls.f I paid it him when he went to Hamburgh. After- 
wards, he had from some others ten pounds sterling more, which 
he left with me, and within a year after sent for it." In a sub- 
sequent passage of this petition, Monmouth bears further testi- 
mony in favour of Tindal, and also shows the mental bondage 
in which good men were then held by the Romish ecclesiastics. 
" When I heard my lord of London preach at Paul's cross that 
sir William Tindal had translated the new testament into Eng- 
lish, and that it was naughtily translated, that was the first time 
that ever I suspected or knew any evil of him. And shortly 
after, all the letters and treatises that he sent me, with divers 
copies of books which my servant did write, and the sermons 
that the priest did make at St. Dunstan's, I burned them in my 
house. He that wrote them out saw it. I burned them for 
fear of the translator, more than for any evil I knew of them." 
Monmouth was released, though not till he had suffered much 
loss and inconvenience ; and he continued to favour and support 
the followers of the truth.:|: He was afterwards alderman and 
sheriff, and died in 1537. 

Tindal proceeded to Saxony, where he saw Luther and other 
reformers, and then settling at Antwerp, in which city several 
English merchants favourable to the truth resided, he proceeded 
with his translation, assisted by Frith and Roye. In 1526, an 
edition of fifteen hundred copies of the new testament was 
printed ; many of them were sent into England and widely 
circulated. The wrath of the Romish prelates at this proceed- 
ing was very great ; a mandate was immediately issued by 

* Linen was an expensive luxury in those days. Sodden meat, means 
food merely boiled, or plain fare. 

t From Tindal's writings it will be seen that he did not long retain this 
ancient error. 

t For a pleasing anecdote of this excellent man, see Latimer's Ser- 
mons, p. 208— 210. 

2* 



6 Tindal, 

Tonstal, bishop of London, commanding that all the testaments 
translated by Tindal should be brought to the vicar-general. 
Several books written by Tindal, Luther, and other reformers, 
were also forbidden. Of them Fox truly observes, " These 
books of W. Tindal, being compiled, published, and sent over 
into England, it cannot be spoken what a door of light they 
opened to the eyes of the whole English nation, which before 
were many years shut up in darkness." 

We have noticed bishop Tonstal being anxious to suppress 
Tindal's testament ; to forward his design, he adopted the fol- 
lowing singular expedient. He consulted one Packington, a 
mercer and merchant of London, who traded to Antwerp, how 
he might get all these testaments into his hands, and burn 
them. We may believe that bishop Tonstal wished to prevent 
their dispersion, without resorting to those cruel measures, 
which he, differing from most of the Romish prelates, abhorred 
to put in practice. 

Packington is said to have been a secret friend of TindaFs, 
and knew his want of money, and that a great many copies of 
this testament were still on hand : this appeared a fair oppor- 
tunity to assist the reformer ; he therefore told the bishop, that 
if his lordship pleased, he would endeavour to purchase all that 
remained unsold. To this the bishop consented ; Tindal had 
the money, Packington many thanks, and the bishop the books, 
which were sent to England, and burned in Cheapside, to the 
great surprise and grief of the people in general. 

The bishop now thought that all was safe, but soon disco- 
vered that he was mistaken ; for the printers in Holland, finding 
the books were eagerly sought after, immediately printed ano- 
ther edition, and by the next year, they came over in greater 
numbers than before. His lordsliip, finding this to be the case, 
sent for Packington, and blamed him for not buying up all the 
testaments according to his promise. Packington assured the 
bishop that he had bouglit all that remained unsold, adding, 
that " he believed thoy had printed more since, and that he 
really did not see how this could be stopped, unless his lord- 
ship would also buy the types and presses!" The bishop, how- 
ever, only smiled at this proposal, and so the matter ended. 
These last editions were printed by the booksellers of Holland 
as a matter of profit. 

Sir Thomas More, then lord chancellor, was very bitter 



Life. 7 

against all the reformers, and their writings, particularly 
agamst the translation of the new testament; and from the 
records of those times, it appears that he was very strict in 
examining all heretics supposed to be in any manner connected 
with Antwerp. Amongst others, George Constantine, who had 
been beyond sea, was brought before him ; and the chancellor, 
after many questions, told him that he would be favourable to 
him, if he w*ould but truly say from whom Tindal and his com- 
panions had received the money on which they lived. " My 
lord," said Constantine, " I will tell you truly ; it is the bishop 
of London that hath assisted us ; for he bestowed among us a 
great deal of money for the new testaments which he burnt, 
and that has been, and still is, our only support." " Now, by 
my troth," said the chancellor, " I think this is the truth, for I 
told the bishop it would be so before he weat about it I" 

The public burning of the word of God excited much atten- 
tion ; most people concluded that there must be something in 
that book very different from the doctrines of the clergy, who 
were so eager to destroy it; and all the arguments of sir 
Thomas More, and others, who wrote against the translation, 
could not remove these suspicions, which were confirmed by 
the perusal of the testaments.. The demand for them increased, 
although the bishop preached at St. Paul's Cross, declaring 
that there were two thousand texts wrong translated, and though 
all who imported these testaments, or purchased them, were 
prosecuted with severity. Among others, one John Raimund, 
a Dutchman, w^as punished for " causing fifteen hundred to be 
printed at Antwerp, and bringing five hundred of them into 
England." John Tindal, the brother of the translator, also was 
punished for " sending five marks to his brother, and receiving 
letters from him;" and condemned, with Thomas Patmore, 
another merchant of London, to do penance, by riding to the 
standard in Cheapside, with their faces to their horses' tails, 
having the testaments hung thickly round them, fastened to 
their gowns ; they were then compelled to cast the books into 
a fire kindled on purpose to consume them. 

It appears that several persons in London sold these 
testaments ; the price of them wholesale, in large quantities, 
was about thirteen pence each ; but singly, by retail, from twenty- 
eight to thirty pence or even more ; reckoning the difierence of 
the value of money, we may consider these sums as equal to ten 



8 TindaL 

times the amount in our days. Notwithstanding all these exer- 
tions of the prelates, three large editions were sold before 1530. 
We may here remark, that although this translation was in 
some respects faulty, as always must be the case with a first 
edition, yet the number of errors before mentioned is an absurd 
exaggeration, even including mere typographical faults, such as 
broken letters, and words spelt amiss ; and Dr. Geddes has ob- 
served, that " although it is far from a perfect translation, yet 
few first translations will be found preferable to it. It is asto- 
nishing how little obsolete the language of it is, even at this 
day ; and in point of perspicuity and noble simplicity, propriety 
of idiom, and purity of style, no English version has yet sur- 
passed it." 

The following extract from the confession of John Tyball, 
of Bumsted in Essex, made before bishop Tonstal on April 
28th, 1528, contains some interesting information relative to 
the circulation of Tindal's testament : — 

"Furthermore he saith, that at Michaelmas last past was 
twelve months, this respondent and Thomas Hills came to 
London to friar Barons, then being at the Friars Augustines in 
London, to buy a new testament in English, as he saith. And 
they found the said friar Barons in his chamber, where there 
was a merchant man reading a book, and two or three more 
present. And when they came in, the friar demanded from 
whence they came, and they said from Bumsted ; and they 
desired friar Barons, that they might be acquainted with him, 
because they had heard that he was a good man, and because 
they would have his counsel in the new testament, which they 
desired to have of him. And he saith, that the said friar 
Barons did perceive very well that Thomas Hills and this re- 
spondent were infected with opinions, because they w^ould have 
the new testament. And then further they showed the said 
friar, that one sir Ricliard Fox, curate of Bumsted, by their 
means was well entered in their learning ; and said that they 
thought to got him wholly in a short space ; wherefore they de- 
sired the said friar Barons to make a letter to him, that ho 
would continue in that he had begun. Which friar did promise . 
so to write to liim a letter at afternoon, and to get them a new 
testament. And then, after that communication, they showed 
the friar Barons certain old books that they had, as the four 



Life, 9 

evangelists and certain espistles of Peter and Paul in English.* 
Which books the said friar did little regard, and made a twyt 
of it,t and said, ' A point for them, for they are not to be re- 
garded toward the new printed testament in English ; for it is 
of more clean English.'J And then the said friar Barons de- 
livered to them the said new testament in English, for which 
they paid three shillings and two-pence, and desired them that 
they w^ould keep it close, for he would be loth it should be 
known. And after the delivering of the said new testament to 
them, the said friar Barons did liken the new testament in Latin 
to a cymbal tinkling and a brass sounding, but what further ex- 
position he made upon it, he cannot tell. i\.nd then at after- 
noon they fetched the said letter from the said friar, which he 
wrote to sir Richard, and he read it openly before them. And 
so they departed from him ; and never since spake with him, 
or wrote to him." 

Robert Necton confessed that he had bought of Mr. Fish, 
dwelling by the Whitefriars in London, many of the new testa- 
ments in English of the great volume, at sundry times, to the 
number of twenty or thirty. He also bought of Geoffery Usher 
of St. Anthonies, eighteen new testaments of the small volume, 
and twenty-six other books. A Dutchman then in the Fleet 
prison, also would have sold him two or three hundred testa- 
ments, for which he was to have given ninepence each. These 
probably were the inferior edition, printed by the booksellers in 
Holland ; the larger testaments of Tindal's first edition he sold 
for about three shillings and fourpence each. These confes- 
sions and others which Strype has printed in the appendix to 
his Memorials, from bishop Tonstal's own register, show that 
these books were widely circulated ; also the extent to which 
the doctrines of the gospel were diffused among the lower 
classes, and the high price at which they purchased the word 
of God. These farmers and labourers willingly paid a sum of 
money for a new testament in English, which, when the differ- 
ence in value of money is considered, is equal to two or three 
pounds at the present day. 

Sir Thomas More published, in 1529, a Dialogue, in which he 



* Probably of Wickliff 's translation ; in another part of his confession, 
Tyball says, he burnt them on hearing the curate was taken up. 
t Made light of it. 
X Better expressed, easier to be understood. 



10 Tindal 

strongly advocated the doctrines of popery, and attacked the 
writings of the Reformers, especially the English testament; to 
which Tindal replied, ably defending his translation against the 
imputations cast upon it* Meanwhile Tindal proceeded 
with his version of the old testament, and having completed 
the five books of Moses, he embarked for Hamburgh, designing 
to print that portion without delay. On the voyage he was 
shipwrecked, and lost all his books and papers, but being stead- 
fastly resolved to proceed in his great work, he again proceeded 
to that city. Coverdale came to him, they resided there from 
Easter till December, 1529, during which time they again 
translated the pentateuch ; and it was printed in the following 
year, apparently at different presses. 

Tindal then returned to Antwerp, where he continued his la- 
bours and printed a revised edition of his testament in 1534. 

* In his preface to the five books of Moses, Tindal thus notices the 
cavils of his adversaries against his translation : — " When I had trans- 
lated the new testament, I added an ei)istle unto tlie latter end, in which 
I desired them that were learned to amend if ought were foimd amiss. 
But our malicious and wily hypocrites, who are so stubborn, and hard 
hearted in their wicked abominations, that it is not possible for them to 
amend any thing at all, (as we see by daily experience, wlien both their 
lyings and doings are rebuked with the truth,) say, some of them, tliat it is 
impossible to translate the scripture into English ; some, that it is not lawful 
for the lay people to have it in their mother tongue ; some, that it would 
make them all heretics; as it would no doubt from many things which 
they of long time have falsely taught; and that is the whole cause where- 
fore they forbid it, though they pretend other cloaks. And some, or 
rather every one, say that it would make them rise against the kinor, 
whom they themselves (unto their damnation is it) never yet obeyed. 
And lest the temporal nilers should see tlieir falsehood, if the scripture 
came to light, causes them so to lie. 

"And as for my translation, in which they affirm unto the lay people, 
as I have heard say, to be I know not liow many thousand heresies, so 
that it cannot be mended or corrected, they have yet taken such great 
pains to examine it, and to compare it unto what they would fain have it, 
and to their own imaginations and jugn:ling terms, and to have somewhat 
to rail at ; and, under that cloak, to blaspheme the truth, that they might 
with as little labour, as I supi)ose, have translated the most part of the 
bible. For they which in limes past were wont to look on no more 
scripture than they found in their I)tuis, or such like devilish doctrine, 
have yet now so narrowly looked on my translation, that there is not so 
much as one i therein, if it lack a tittle over its head, but thry have noted 
it, and nimilKT it unto the ignorant people for a heresy. Finally, in tliis 
they are all agreed — to drive you fnun the knowledge of the scripture, 
anci that you eliall not have the text thereof in the mother tonj^ue; and 
to keep the world still in darkness, to the intent they might sit in the 
consciences of the people, through vain superstition and false doctrine, 
lo satisfy their filthy lusts, their proud ambition, and unsaiiable covetous- 
ness; and to exalt their own honour above king and emperor, yea, and 
above God himsclt." 



Life. 



11 



During this period, the anger of the papists against him in- 
creased more and more ; his books were prohibited by the king's 
proclamation but were anxiously sought after by the people. 
Many persons ventured their lives by bringing them into Eng- 
land ; among them Richard Bayfield, who was burned in 1531. 
The Romish prelates and sir Thomas More were very particu- 
lar in their inquiries respecting Tindal's proceedings, manner 
of life, &c., and at length the plans of his adversaries were ma- 
tured. In 1534, they sent to Antwerp a Romanist, named 
Henry Philips, who, having an introduction to the merchants 
there, formed an acquaintance with Tindal. This popish emis- 
sary made himself so acceptable to his unsuspecting victim, that 
Tindal procured him a lodging in the house, where he himself 
resided, and communicated his views and proceedings to his 
treacherous countryman. After some time. Philips proceeded 
to Brussels, and obtained authority from the officers of the 
emperor Charles V. to seize Tindal as a heretic. He then 
returned to Antwerp, and watching an opportunity when 
Poyntz, the person with whom Tindal lodged, was from home, 
he went to the house, and desired the hostess to provide dinner 
for himself and Tindal ; from whom he borrowed some money. 
The latter declined this proposal, as he was engaged to dine 
elsewhere, but asked Philips to accompany him. The invitation 
being accepted, at the appointed" time they went forth together, 
and having to pass through a long narrow entry into the street, 
Philips, with pretended courtesy, insisted upon his companion 
going first. When they came to the doorway, two officers were 
waiting, to whom Philips pointed out their prisoner. They 
seized Tindal, and carried him to the emperor's procurator, who 
caused search to be made for his writings, and sent him to the 
castle of Filford, (or Vilvorde,) where he remained until they 
put him to death. 

Considerable interest was made for Tindal by the protestants 
in England, but without success; he was condemned as an 
offender against the imperial decree, passed in the Diet of 
Augsburg, and after an imprisonment of a year and a half, during 
which interval the Romish doctors had many disputations with 
him, he was carried to the place of execution in 1536. Tindal 
was strangled, and his body afterwards burned, his last words 
were, " O Lord, open the king of England's eyes." 

Such was the power of his doctrine, and the spirit of his life, 



12 Tindal 

that during the time of his imprisonment, it is said, he became 
the means of converting his keeper, his daughter, and others 
of the household. Also the rest who were in the castle reported 
of him, that if he were not a good Christian man, they knew 
not whom to trust. Even the emperor's procurator left this 
testimony of him, that he was a learned, a good, and a godly man. 

The waitings of Tindal are numerous ; in addition to the 
new testament and the pentateuch, he translated the other 
books of the old testament to the end of Nehemiah, which 
were printed as a part of the first complete English bible, pub- 
lished in 1535, by Coverdale. The psalms and the prophet 
Jonah were printed separately in his lifetime.* His other 
works, and the prologues prefixed to the books of scripture, 
were collected by Fox, and printed by Day in one volume, with 
the writings of Frith and Barnes. In addition to the pieces 
contained in the present work, Tindal wrote an answer to sir 
Thomas More's Dialogue — The Practice of Prelates, which 
contains a very severe exposure of the corruptions of popery — 
A Commentary upon the Epistles of St. John, which also enters 
fully into the errors of the church of Rome — and, A Treatise 
upon Signs and Sacraments. Some other small pieces have 
been ascribed to him. 

Tindal also translated some writings of the German re- 
formers, and published the Prayer and Complaint of the Plough- 
man ; also, the Examinations of lord Cobliam and William 
Thorp. 

One of his principal works is, *' The Obedience of a Christian 
Man, and how Christian Rulers ought to govern ;" part of the 
preface and the summary with which it concludes, are given in 
the present volume. Respecting this tract, an anecdote has 
been preserved too interesting to be omitted. 

Ann Boloyn, before she was queen, lent to Mrs. Gainsford, 
one of lier female attendants, a tract written by Tindal, called, 
" The Obedience of a Christian Man." One day as she was 
reading it, a young gentleman named Zouch, also in the service 

* As a translator of the scriptures, Tiiulal labourrd with the most scru- 
puloufi accuracy; he says, " I call Cjod to record against the day we shall 
appear betbnr onr Lord Jesus, to ^\\c a reckouini; of our doings, that I 
never altered oue sylh'hle of (iod's word aiiaiust my conscience, nor 
Would do tliis day. \i' all that is in earth, whether il be honour, pleasure, 
or riches, m\is,hi bo given me." See liis letter to F'rith. The reader has 
already had other particulars rcsi>ccting his version. 



Life. 



13 



of lady Ann, snatched the book away in sport, and refused 
to restore it. He was, however, induced to peruse the tract; 
and his heart was so affected by its contents, that 'he was 
never well but when he was reading that book.' Cardinal 
Wolsey had directed all the ecclesiastics about the court, to take 
especial care to prevent the writings of the reformers from 
being circulated there, lest they should come into the hands of 
the king ; but this very caution proved the means of bringing 
to pass what he most feared ! Dr. Sampson, the dean of the 
royal chapel, saw this book one day in the young man's hand, 
who was reading it in the chapel ; most probably being weary 
of attendance upon the mass, the processions, and other mum- 
meries. The dean called Zouch, and took the book from him, 
and gave it to the cardinal. Some days after. Lady Ann asked 
her attendant for the book, who, ' on her knees, told all the 
circumstances,' doubtless being fearful lest her mistress, as 
well as herself, should come into trouble from this carelessness. 
Lady Ann instantly went to the king, and * upon her knees' en- 
treated his help, that the book might be restored. Henry in- 
terfered, and at his command the book was given up to lady 
Ann, who brought it to him, requesting he would read it. The 
king did so, and was much pleased with the contents, saying, 
" This book is for me and all kings to read." 

To the preceding account of Tindal, may be added the con- 
cluding paragraph of his life, prefixed by Fox to the collected 
edition of his works. 

" And here to end and conclude this history with a few notes, 
touching his private behaviour in diet, study, and especially his 
charitable zeal, and tender relieving of the poor. First he was 
a man very frugal and spare of body, a great student and ear- 
nest labourer in setting forth the scriptures of God. He reserved 
or hallowed to himself two days in the week, which he named 
his days of pastime, and those days were Saturday and Monday. 
On the Monday he visited all such poor men and women as 
had fled out of England to Antwerp by reason of persecution, 
and those who well understood good exercises and qualities, he 
very liberally comforted and relieved ; and in like manner pro- 
vided for sick and diseased persons. On the Saturday he 
walked round the town of Antw^erp, seeking out every corner 
and hole where he suspected any poor person dwelt, and where 
he found any well occupied and yet overburdened with children, 

TINDAL. 2 



14 . Tindal. 

or else aged or weak, those also he plentifully relieved. And 
thus he spent his two days of pastime as he called them. And 
truly his alms were very large and great ; and so they might 
well be, for his exhibition that he had yearly from the English 
merchants was considerable, and for the most part he bestowed 
it upon the poor as before is said. The rest of the days of the 
week he gave himself wholly to his books, wherein he laboured 
most diligently. When the Sunday came, then went he to some 
one merchant's chamber, or other, w^hither came many other 
merchants, and unto them w^ould he read some part of scrip- 
ture, either out of the old testament or out of the new, which 
proceeded so fruitfully, sweetly, and gently from him, much like 
to the writing of St. John the evangelist, that it was a heavenly 
comfort and joy to the audience to hear him read the scriptures ; 
and likewise after dinner he spent an hour in the same manner. 
He was a man without any spot, or blemish of rancour, or 
malice, full of mercy and compassion, so that no man living 
was able to reprove him of any kind of sin or crime, although 
his righteousness and justification depended not thereupon be- 
fore God, but only upon the blood of Christ, and his faith 
upon the same ; in the which faith he died with constancy at 
Filford, and now resteth with the glorious company of Christ's 
martyrs blessedly in the Lord, who be blessed in all his saints. 
Amen. 

" And thus much of the life and story of the true servant 

and martyr of God, William Tindal, who for 

his notable pains and travail, may 

well be called the apostle of 

England in this our 

latter age." 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF 

JOHN FRITH, 

MARTYR, 1533. 



John Frith was the son of an innkeeper at Sevenoaks in 
Kent, where he was born about the year 1503> From his 
childhood he was remarkable for his abilities and his incli- 
nation for learning, in which he made very considerable pro- 
gress. He studied at Cambridge, \vhere he was of King's 
college, and was one of the persons selected by cardinal 
Wolsey, on account of their learning, to be members of his new 
college at Oxford, which he founded in 1527, upon a very mag- 
nificent scale, and enlarged by suppressing several monasteries 
and other ecclesiastical institutions. While in London, about 
1525, Frith had become acquainted with Tindal, through Vv^hose 
instructions he first received into his heart the seed of the gos- 
pel and pure godliness. Frith and several of his companions 
at Oxford soon evinced an attachment for the doctrines of the 
truth, which excited the enmity of the Romanists, who im- 
prisoned them in a deep cellar belonging to the college, where 
the salt fish was kept. The damp and noisome stench of this 
place affected them so that several of their number died. 

After some time Frith was released. In 1528 he went beyond 
sea, where he remained two years, during which interval he 
made considerable progress in the knowledge of the truth, and 
wrote his book against purgatory. He then returned ; he went 
to Reading, having, it is supposed, some expectations from the 
abbot of that place. These, however, appear to haVe been dis- 
appointed ; he was taken up and set in the stocks as a vagrant. 

FRITH. 31 (1) 



2 Frith, 

After being confined some time, when ready to perish with hun- 
ger, he asked to see the schoolmaster of the town, who, disco- 
vering his abilities and learning, procured his release, and gave 
him assistance. 

Frith then went to London, where he endeavoured to remain 
concealed, but he soon became "a marked man," and was 
earnestly sought for by sir Thomas More, who offered large 
rewards for his apprehension. In his book against purgatory. 
Frith had written in answer to sir Thomas More's reply to the 
Supplication of the Beggars, (see page 30,) showing that the 
doctrine of purgatory was opposed to the truths of scripture 
respecting the pardon of sin and salvation by Christ alone. 
Frith was apprehended at Milton in Essex, endeavouring to es- 
cape to the continent, and sent to the Tower. There he gained 
the favour of his keeper, so that he was allowed sometimes to 
visit the followers of the truth in the city. Strype relates, that 
" When John Frith was in the tower, he came to Petit's key in 
the night, notwithstanding the strait watch and ward by com- 
mandment. At whose first coming, Mr. Petit was in doubt 
whether it was Mr. Frith or a vision ; no less doubting than 
the apostles, when Rhoda the maid brought tidings that Peter 
was out of prison. But Mr. Frith showed him that it was God 
that wrought him that liberty in the heart of his keeper, Phillips, 
who, upon the condition of his own word and promise, let him 
go at liberty in the night to consult with godly men." Petit 
was a wealthy merchant of London, who was member of par- 
liament for the city many years, but being suspected by sir 
Thomas More of favouring those of the new religion, and as- 
sisting to print their books, he was imprisoned and laid In a 
dungeon upon a pad of straw, where he contracted a disease of 
which he soon afterwards died. 

While in confinement, Frith was induced by a friend to com- 
mit to writing his opinions upon the sacrament of the Lord's 
supper. These we are told were four. 1. That the matter of 
the sacrament is no article of faith necessary to be believed 
under pain of danmation. 2. That forasmuch as Christ's natural 
body hath all properties of our body, sin only excepted, it cannot 
be, neither is it agreeable unto reason, that he should be in two 
places or more at once, contrary to the nature of our body. 
3. Moreover it is not right or necessary, that we should in this 
place understand Christ's words according to tlie literal sense, 



Life. 3 

but rather according to the order and phrase of speech, compar- 
ing phrase with phrase, according to the analogy of the scripture. 
4. The sacrament ought to be received according to the true 
and right institution of Christ, albeit the order which at this 
time has crept into the church, and is used now-a-days by the 
priest, ever so much differs from it. 

At that period there was in London a tailor named William 
Holt, who pretended to be very friendly towards the followers 
of the truth. Having obtained a copy of this writing of Frith's, 
he carried it to sir Thomas More, and it was the cause of 
Frith's death. More, at that time, was very active in defence of 
the Romish doctrines ; he not only imprisoned Frith, but printed 
a refutation of his arguments. His book, however, was kept 
from Frith and his friends with much care for some time ; 
with considerable difficulty he obtained a written copy, and 
saw the printed work during an examination before the bishop 
of Winchester. Frith then replied to More's answer in an 
able treatise, written under all the disadvantages of strict con- 
finement. 

Frith had now attracted considerable notice, as the first who 
publicly advocated the doctrines, of Zuingle, in England. One 
of the king's chaplains alluded to him in a sermon, at the insti- 
gation of the bishop of Winchester ; in consequence of which 
his imprisonment in the tower was terminated by an order to 
the bishops to examine him. The subsequent account is best 
given in the words of Fox. 

" That there should be no concourse of citizens at the said 
examination, my lord of Canterbury removed to Croydon, 
unto whom resorted the rest of the commissioners. Now, be- 
fore the day appointed, my lord of Canterbury sent one of his 
gentlemen, and one of his porters, whose name was Perlebean, 
a Welshman born, to fetch John Frith from the Tower unto 
Croydon. This gentleman had both my lord's letters and the 
king's ring unto my lord Fitzwilliams, constable of the Tower, 
then lying in Canon-row, at Westminster, in extreme anguish 
and pain from a disorder, for the delivery of the prisoner. 
Master Fitzwilliams, more passionate than patient, understand- 
ing for what purpose my lord's gentleman was come, banned 
and cursed Frith and other heretics, saying. Take this my ring 
unto the lieutenant of the Tower, and receive your man, your 
heretic, with you, and I am glad that I am rid of him. 



JL Frith, 

" When Frith was delivered unto my lord of Canterbury's 
gentleman, they twain, with Perlebean, sitting in a wherry and 
rowing towards Lambeth, the said gentleman much lamenting 
in his mind the infelicity of the said Frith, began to exhort him, 
to consider in what state he was, a man altogether cast away 
in this world, if he did not look wisely to himself. And yet 
though his cause was ever so dangerous, he might, by some- 
what relenting to authority, and so giving place for a time, 
help both himself out of trouble, and when opportunity and oc- 
casion should serve, prefer his cause, which he then went about 
to defend, declaring further that he had many well-willers and 
friends, who would stand on his side, so far as they were able, 
and durst do ; adding hereunto, that it were great pity that he, 
being of such singular knowledge both in the Latin and Greek, 
both ready and ripe in all kind of learning, and as well in the 
scriptures as in the ancient doctors, should now suddenly suffer 
all those singular gifls to perish with him, with little commo- 
dity or profit to the world, and less comfort to his wife and 
children, and others his kinsfolks and friends. And as for the 
verity of your opinion in the sacrament of the body and blood 
of our Saviour Christ, added he, it is so untimely opened here 
amongst us in England, that you shall rather do harm than 
good ; wherefore be wise and be ruled by good counsel until a 
better opportunity may serve. This I am sure of, that my lord 
Cromwell and my lord of Canterbury, much favouring you, 
and knowing you to be an eloquent, learned young man, and 
now towards the felicity of your life, young in years, old in 
knowledge, and of great forwardness, and likely to be a most 
profitable member for this reahn, will never permit you to sus- 
tain any open shame, if you will somewhat be advised by their 
counsel. On the other side, if you stand stiffly to your opinion, 
it is not possible to save your life. For like as you have good 
friends, so have you mortal foes and enemies. 

" I most hcartly thank yon, said master Frith unto the gentle- 
man, both for your good will and for your counsel ; by which 
I well perceive that you intend well unto me ; howbeit, my 
cause and conscience is such, that in no wise I may not, and 
cannot for any worldly respect, without danger of damnation, 
start aside, and fly from tlic true knowledge and doctrine which 
I have conceived of the supper of the Lord or the communion, 
otherwise called the sacrament of the altar; for if it be my 



« 



Life. 5 

chance to be demanded, what I think in that behalf, I must 
needs say my knowledge and my conscience, as partly I have 
written therein already, tliough I should presently lose twenty 
lives if I had so many. And this you shall well understand, 
that I am not so unfurnished, either of scripture or ancient 
doctors, schoolmen, or others for my defence ; so that if I may 
be indifferently* heard, I am sure that mine adversaries cannot 
justly condemn me or mine assertion, but that they shall con- 
demn with me St. Augustine and the most part of the old 
writers ; yea, the very bishops of Rome of the oldest sort shall 
also say for me and defend my cause. Yea, marry, quoth the 
gentleman, you say well, if you might be indifferently heard. 
But I much doubt thereof, for our master Christ was not 
indifferently heard, nor should be, as I think, if he were now 
present again in the world, especially in this your opinion, the 
same being so odious unto the world, and we so far off from 
the true knowledge thereof. 

"Well, well, said Frith then unto the gentleman, I know 
very well that this doctrine of the sacrament of the altar which 
I hold, and have opened, contrary to the opinion of this realm, 
is very hard meat to be digested, both of the clergy and laity 
thereof. But this I will say to you, (taking the gentleman by 
the hand,) that if you live but twenty years more, whatsoever 
become of me, you shall see this whole realm of mine opmion 
concerning this sacrament of the altar; namely, the whole 
estate of the same, though some men particularly shall not be 
fully persuaded therein. And if it come not so to pass, then 
account me the vainest man that ever you heard speak with 
tongue. Besides this, you say that my death would be sorrow- 
ful and uncomfortable unto my friends. I grant that for a 
small time it would be so ; but if I should so mollify, qualify, 
and temper my cause in such sort as to deserve only to be kept 
in prison, that would not only be a much longer grief unto me, 
but also to my friends would breed no small disquietness, both 
of body and of mind. , And therefore all things well and 
rightly pondered, my death in this cause shall be better unto 
me and all mine, than life in continual bondage and penuries. 
And almighty God knoweth what he hath to do with his poor 
servant, whose cause I now defend and not my own ; from the 

* Impartially. 
31* 



r 



6 Frith. 

which I assuredly do intend, God willing, never to start or 
otherwise to give place, so long as God will give me life. 

" This communication, or the like in effect, my lord of Can- 
terbury's gentleman and Frith had, coming in a wherry upon 
the Thames from the Tower to Lambeth. 

"Now, when they were landed, after repast being taken at 
Lambeth, the gentleman, the porter, and Frith went forward to- 
wards Croydon on foot. This gentleman still lamenting with 
himself the hard and cruel destiny of Frith, if he once came 
amongst the bishops ; and now also perceiving the exceeding 
constancy of Frith, devised with himself some way or means 
to convey him quite out of their hands, and thereupon consider- 
ing that there were no more persons there to convey the pris- 
oner, but the porter and himself, he took in hand to win the 
porter to his purpose. Quoth the gentleman unto Perlebean the 
porter, they twain privately walking by themselves without the 
hearing of Frith, You have heard this man I am sure, and noted 
his talk since he came from the Tower. — Yea, that 1 have right 
well marked him, quoth the porter, and I never heard so con- 
stant a man nor so eloquent a person. — You have heard 
nothing, quoth the gentleman, in respect both of his knowledge 
and eloquence : if he might either in university or pulpit freely 
declare his learning, you would then much more marvel at his 
knowledge. I take him to be such a one of his age in all kind 
of learning and knowledge of tongues, as this realm never yet 
brought forth, and yet those singular gifts in him are no more 
considered of our bishops than if he were a very dolt or an 
idiot ; yea, they abhor him as a devil therefore, and covet 
utterly to extinguish him as a member of the deviJ, without 
any consideration of God's special gifts. — Marry, quoth the 
porter, if there were nothing else in him but the consideration 
of his personage, both comely and amiable, and of natural dis- 
position, gentle, meek, and humble : it were pity that he should 
be cast away. 

" The gentleman then proposed that they should suffer Frith 
to escape, saying. You see yonder hill before us named Bristow 
(Brixton) cadseway; there are great woods on both sides; 
when we come there we will permit Frith to go into the woods 
on the left hand of the way, whereby he may convey himself 
into Kent among his friends, for he is a Kentish man ; and 
when he is gone we will linger an hour or two about the liigh- 



Life. 7 

way, until it draw towards night. Then in great haste we will 
approach Streatham and make an outcry in the town that our 
prisoner is broken from us on the right hand towards Wands- 
worth, so that we will draw as many as we can of the town to 
search the country that way for our prisoner, declaring that we 
followed him above a mile or more, and at length lost him in 
the woods. So when my lord of Canterbury's gentleman came 
nigh to the hill, he joined himself in company with the said 
Frith, and, calling him by his name, said. Now, master Frith 
let us twain commune together another while ; you must con- 
sider that the journey which I have now taken in hand thus in 
bringing you to Croydon, as a sheep to the slaughter, it griev- 
eth me, and as it were overwhelmeth me in cares and sorrows, 
that I little mind what danger I fall in, so that I could find the 
means to deliver you out of the lion's mouth. And yet yonder 
good fellow and I have devised a means, whereby you may both 
easily escape from this great and eminent danger at hand, and 
we also be rid from any vehement suspicion. 

" When Frith had heard all the matter concerning his de- 
livery, he said to the gentleman, with a smiling countenance, 
Is this the effect of your secret consultation, thus long between 
you twain] Surely, surely, you have lost a great deal more 
labour in times past, and so are you like to do this, for if you 
should both leave me here, and go to Croydon declaring to the 
bishops that you had lost Frith, I would surely follow afler as 
fast as I might, and bring them news that I had found and 
brought Frith again. Do you think that I am afraid to declare 
my opinion unto the bishops of England in a manifest truth 1 

" You are a foolish man, quoth the gentleman, thus to talk : 
as though your reasoning with them might do some good. But I 
do much marvel, that you were so willing to fly the realm before 
you were taken, and now so unwilling to save yourself — There 
was and is a great diversity of escaping, between the one and 
the other, quoth Frith. Before, I was indeed desirous to es- 
cape, because I was not attached, but at liberty; which liberty 
I would fain have enjoyed for the maintenance of my study be- 
yond the sea, where I was reader in the Greek tongue, accord- 
ing to St. Paul's counsel. Howbeit, now being taken by the 
higher power, and as it were, by almighty God's permission 
and providence, delivered into the hands of the bishops only 
for religion and doctrine's sake, such as in conscience and 



8 Frith. 

under pain of damnation I am bound to maintain and defend ; 
if I should now start aside and run away, I should run from my 
God and from the testimony of his holy word, worthy then of 
a thousands hells. And therefore I most heartily thank you 
both, for your good wills towards me, beseeching you to bring 
me where I was appointed to be brought, for else I will go 
thither all alone. And so with a cheerful and merry counte- 
nance he went with them, spending the time with pleasant and 
godly communications, until they came to Croydon, where for 
that night he was well entertained in the porter's lodge. On 
the morrow he was called before certain bishops and other 
learned men sitting in commission with my lord of Canterbury, 
to be examined, w^here he showed himself passing ready and 
ripe in answering to all objections, as some then reported, in- 
credibly and contrary to all men's expectations. And his 
allegations both out of Augustine and other ancient fathers of 
the church, were such that some of them much doubted of 
Augustine's authority in that behalf Insomuch that it was re- 
ported by them who were nigh and about the archbishop of 
Canterbury, (who then was not fully resolved of the sincere 
truth of that article,) that when they had finished their exami- 
nation of Frith, the archbishop, conferring with Dr. Heath pri- 
vately between themselves, said, This man hath wonderfully 
laboured in this matter, and yet in mine opinion he taketh the 
doctors amiss. Well, my lord, said Dr. Heath, there was no 
man who could do away his authorities from St. Augustine. 
Then he began to repeat them again, inferring and applying 
them so strongly that my lord said, I see that you with a little 
more study will easily be brought to Frith's opinion;^ ajnd 
some there present openly reported that Dr. Heath was as 
able to defend Frith's assertions of the sacrament, as Frith was 
himself. 

"This learned young man being thus thoroughly sifted at 
Croydon, to understand what he could say and do in his cause, 
there was no man willing to prefer him to answer in open dispu- 
tation as poor Lambert was. But without regard of learning 
or good knowlcdfre, he was sent and detained unto tlie butcher's 
stall ; I mean bishop Stokcsly's consistory, there to hear, not the 

* This was not n alizfd witli rrst)cct to Hi ntli, wlio was archbishop of 
York in qiircn Manx's days, hut Crannipr liiiii.^lf was led to see the trulh 
of Fritli's doctrine, and was influenced by his writings. 



Life. 9 

opinion of Augustine and other ancient fathers of Christ's pri- 
mitive church, of the said sacrament, but either to be instructed 
and to hear the maimed and half cut-away sacrament of anti- 
christ the bishop of Rome, with the gross and fleshly imagina- 
tion thereof, or else to perish in the fire, as he most certainly 
did, after he had before the bishops of London, Winchester, and 
Chichester, in the consistory in St. Paul's church, most plainly 
and sincerely confessed his doctrine and faith in this weighty 
matter. He left an account of his examinations. 

" Sentence being passed and read against him, the bishop of 
London (Stokesly) directed his letter to the mayor and sherifl?s 
of the city of London, for receiving of John Frith into their 
charge ; who was delivered over unto them. While in Newgate 
Frith was put into the dungeon under the gate, and laden w^ith 
bolts and irons as many as he could bear, and his neck w^ith a 
collar of iron made fast to a post, so that he could neither 
stand upright nor stoop down, yet was he there continually oc- 
cupied in writing, namely \\\i\\ a candle, both day and night, 
for there came no other light into that place. In this sad 
case he remained several days. On the fourth day of July, 
in the year 1533, he was by them carried to Smithfield to 
be burned; and when he w^as.tied unto the stake, there suffi- 
ciently appeared with w^hat constancy and courage he suffered 
death. For when the fagots and fire were put unto him, he 
willingly embraced the same ; thereby declaring, with what 
uprightness" of mind he suffered his death for Christ's sake; 
and the true doctrine, whereof that day he gave with his blood 
a perfect and firm testimony. 

"A young man, apprenticed to a tailor in Watling-street, 
named Andrew He wit, was burned at the same stake with Frith, 
for holding the same opinions. When before the bishops, 
Hewit was asked how he believed concerning the sacrament. 
He replied. Even as John Frith does. Bishop Stokesly said. 
Why Frith is a heretic, and already condemned to be burned ; 
and except thou revoke thy opinion, thou shalt be burned a]so 
with him. His reply simply was^ Truly I am content withal : 
upon which he was condemned and burned with Frith ! 

" When they were at the stake, doctor Cook, a priest in Lon- 
don, openly admonished the people, that they should in no 
wise pray for them — no more than they would do for a dog. 
At which words Frith, smiling, desired the Lord to forgive 
them. These words did not a little move the people unto 



10 Frith. 

anger, and not without good cause. The wind made his death 
somewhat the longer, which bore away the flame from him 
unto his fellow that was burning with him ; but he had esta- 
blished his mind w4th such patience, God giving him strength, 
that even as though he had felt no pain in that long torment, 
he seemed rather to rejoice for his fellow, than to be careful for 
himself— This, truly, is the power and strength of Christ, stri- 
ving and vanquishing in his saints ; who sanctify us together 
with them, and direct us in all things to the glory of his most 
holy name. Amen.'* 



A Letter of John Frith to his friends, concerning his 
troubles: wherein after he had first with a brief preface 
saluted them, entering then into the matter, thus he 
writcth, — being the articles wherefore he died, which he 
wrote in Newgate the 2Srd day of June, 1533.* 

I doubt not, dear bretliren, but that it doth vex you, to see 
the one part have all the words, and freely to speak what they 
list, and the other to be put to silence, and not to be heard in- 
differently.f But refer your matters to God, who shortly shall 
judge afler another fashion. In the mean time I have written 
unto you as briefly as I may, what articles were objected 
against me, and what were the principal points of my condem- 
nation, that ye might understand the matter certainly. 

The whole matter of this my examination was comprehended 
in two special articles, that is to say, of purgatory, and of the 
substance of the sacrament. 

And first of all, as touching purgatory, they inquired of me 
whether I did believe there was any place to purge the spots 
and tiltli of the soul afler this life. But I said, that I thought 
there was no such place. For man, said I, doth consist, and is 
made only of two parts, that is to say, of the body and the soul, 

* This letter is to be seen in the end of that excellent and worthy work 
which he made in the Tower concerning the sacrament of the body and 
hlood of Christ. — For. 

This louer is printed from the copy in Fox's Acts and Monuments, 
whirh is fuller than the ori<^inal tract or the folio edition, but does not 
difTrr in any essential ref^pect. 

t Inipariially. 



Articles for which he died, 1 1 

whereof the one is purged here in this world, by the cross of 
Christ, which he layeth upon every child that he receiveth ; as 
affliction, worldly oppression, persecution, imprisonment, &c. 
and last of all, the reward of sin, which is death, is laid upon 
us ; but the soul is purged with the word of God, which we re- 
ceive through faith, to the salvation both of body and soul. 
Now if ye can show me a third part of man beside the body 
and the soul, I will also grant unto you the third place, which 
you call purgatory. But because ye cannot do this, I must 
also of necessity deny unto you the bishop of Rome's purgatory. 
Nevertheless, I count neither part a necessary article of our 
fiiith, to be believed under pain of damnation, whether there be 
such a purgatory or no. 

Secondly, they examined me touching the sacrament of the 
altar, whether it was the very body of Christ or no. 

I answered, that I thought it was both Christ's body, and 
also our body, as St. Paul teaches us in the first epistle to the 
Corinthians, and tenth chapter. For in that it is made one 
bread of many corns,* it is called our body, which being divers 
and many members, are associated and gathered together into 
one fellowship or body. Likewise of the wine, which is gathered 
of many clusters of grapes, and is made into one liquor. But 
the same bread again, in that it is broken, is the body of Christ, 
declaring his body to be broken and delivered unto death, to 
redeem us from our iniquities. 

Furthermore, in that the sacrament is distributed, it is 
Christ's body ; signifying that as verily as that sacrament is 
distributed unto us, so verily is Christ's body and the fruit of 
his passion distributed unto all faithful people. 

In that it is received, it is Christ's body, signifying that as 
verily as the outward man receiveth the sacrament with his 
teeth and mouth, so verily doth the inward man through faith 
receive Christ's body and fruit of his passion, and is as sure of 
it, as of the bread which he eateth. 

Well, said they, dost thou not think that his very natural 
body, flesh, blood, and bone, is really contained under the sa- 
crament, and there present without all figure or similitude'? 
No, said I, I do not so think. Nothwithstanding I would not 
that any should count that I make my saying, which is the 
negative, any article of faith. For even as I say, that you 

* Grains of com. 



12 Frith. 

ought not to make any necessary article of the faith of your 
part, which is the affirmative, so I say again, that we make no 
necessary article of the faith of our part, but leave it indiffer- 
ent for all men to judge therein, as God shall open their hearts, 
and no side to condemn or despise the other, but to nourish in 
all things brotherly love, and one to bear another's infirmity. 

After this, they alleged the place of St. Augustuie, where he 
saith, " He was carried in his own hands." 

Whercunto I answered, that St. Augustine was a plain in- 
terpreter of himself: for he hath in another place, " He was 
carried as it were in his own hands :" which is a phrase of 
speech not of one that doth simply affirm, but only of one ex- 
pressing a thing by a similitude. And albeit that St. Augustine 
had not thus expounded himself, yet he, writing unto Boniface, 
plainly admonishes all men, that the sacraments do represent 
and signify those things whereof they are sacraments, and 
many times even of the similitudes of the things themselves 
they take their names ; and therefore according to this rule it 
may be said, he was borne in his own hands, when he bare in 
his hands the sacrament of his body and blood. 

Then they alleged a place of Chrysostom, which at the first 
blush may seem to make much for them : who, in a certain 
homily upon the Supper, writeth thus : " Dost thou see bread 
and wine? Do they depart from thee into the draught, as 
other meats do? No, God forbid. For as in wax, when it 
Cometh to the fire, notliing of the substance remaineth nor 
abideth ; so likewise think that the mysteries are consumed by 
the substance of the body, &c." ^ 

These words I expounded by the words of the same doctor, 
who in another homily saith on this manner ; " The inward eyes 
as soon as they see the bread, they flee over all creatures, and 
do not think of the bread that is baked of the baker, but of 
the bread of everlasting life, wliich is signified by the mys- 
tical bread." Now confer these places together, and you shall 
perceive that the last expoundeth the first plainly. For he 
saith; Dost thou see the bread and wine? I answer by the 
second, Nay. For the inward oycs as soon as they see the 
bread, do pass over all creatures, and do not any longer think 
upon the bread, but upon him that is signified by the bread. 
And after this manner he socth it, and again, he seeth it not. 
For as he seeth it with liis outward and carnal eyes, so with his 
inward eyes he seetli it not ; that is to say, rcgardoth not the 



Articles for which he died. 13 

bread, or thinketh not upon it, but is otherwise occupied. Even 
as when we play or do any thing else negligently, we commonly 
are wont to say, we see not what we do ; not that indeed we 
do not see that which we go about, but because our mind is 
fixed on some other thing, and does not attend unto that which 
the eyes do see. 

In like manner may it be answered unto that which follows, 
" Do they avoid from thee, saith he, into the draught as other 
meats do '?" I will not so say.- For other meats passing through, 
after they have of themselves given nourishment unto the 
body, are voided into the draught ; but this is a spiritual meat, 
which is received by faith, and nourisheth both body and soul 
unto everlasting life ; neither is it at any time avoided as other 
meats are. 

And, as I said before, that the external eyes do behold the 
bread, which the inward eyes, being otherwise occupied, do 
not behold or think upon. Even so our outward man doth 
digest the bread, and void it into the draught ; but the inward 
man doth neither regard nor think upon it, but thinketh upon 
the thing itself that is signified by that bread. And therefore 
Chrysostom a little before the words which they alleged, saith, 
" Lift up your minds and hearts." Whereby he admonishes us 
to look upon and consider those heavenly things which are re- 
presented and signified by the bread and wine, and not to mark 
the bread and wine itself 

Here they said, that was not Chrysostom's mind ; but that 
by this example he declareth that there remained no bread nor 
wine. I answered, that was false ; for the example that he 
taketh, tendeth to no other purpose, but to call away our spi- 
ritual eyes from the beholding of visible things, and to transport 
them another way, as if the things that are seen were of no 
force. Therefore he draweth away our mind from the con- 
sideration of these things, and fixeth it upon him who is 
signified unto us by the same. The very words which follow 
sufficiently declare this to be the true meaning of the author, 
whereas he commandeth us to consider all things with our in- 
ward eyes ; that is to say, spiritually. 

But whether Chrysostom's words do tend either to this or 
that sense, yet do they indifferently make on our part against 
our adversaries, which way soever we do understand them. 
For if he thought that the bread and wine do remain, we have 
no farther to travel ; but if he meant contrariwise, that they 

FRITH. 32 



14 Frith. 

do not remain, but that the natures of the bread and wine are 
altered, then are the bread and wine falsely named sacraments 
and mysteries, which can be said in no place to be in the 
nature of things ; for that which is in no place, how can it be 
a sacrament, or supply the room of a mystery! Finally, if 
he spake only of the outward forms and shapes, as we call 
them, it is most certain that they do continually remain, and 
that they, by the substance of the body, are not consumed in 
any place ; wherefore it must necessarily follow the words of 
Chrysostom are to be understood in such sense as I have 
declared. 

Here peradventure many would marvel, that forsomuch as 
the matter touchingf the substance of the sacrament, being se- 
parate from the articles of faith, and binding no man of neces- 
sity, either unto salvation or damnation, whether he believe it 
or not, but rather may be left indifferently unto all men, freely 
to judge either on the one part or on the other, according unto 
his own mind ; so that neither part do contemn or despise the 
other, but that all love and charity be still holden and kept 
in this dissention of opinions, what then the cause is, why I 
would therefore so willingly suifer death. The cause why T 
die is this; for that I cannot agree with the divines and other 
head prelates, that it should be necessarily determined to be an 
article of faith, and that we should believe, under pain of dam- 
nation, tlie substance of the bread and wine to be changed into 
the body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ, the form and 
shape only not being changed. Which if it were most true, as 
they shall never be able to prove it by any authority of the 
scripture or doctors, yet shall they not so bring to pass, tliat 
that doctrine, were it ever so true, should be holden for a ne- 
cessary article of faith. For there are many things, both in 
the scriptures and other places, which we are not bound of 
necessity to believe as articles of faith. So it is true, I was a 
prisoner and in bonds when I wrote these things, and yet for 
all that I will not hold it as an article of faith,* but that you 
may without danger of damnation, either believe it, or think 
the contrary. 

But as touching the cause why I cannot affirm the doctrine 
of transubstantiation, divers reasons lead me thereunto. First, 
for that I plainly see it to be false and vain, and not to be 

* This is to l)c weighed with the time when Krith wrote —/>>' 



Letters concerning Frith. 15 

grounded upon any reason, either of the scriptures, or of ap- 
proved doctors. 

Secondly, tor that by my example I would not be an author 
unto Christians to admit any thing as a matter of faith, more 
than the necessary points of their creed, wherein the whole 
sum of our salvation doth consist, especially such things, the 
belief whereof have no certain argument of authority or rea- 
son. I added moreover, that their church, as they call it, hath 
no such power and authority, that it either ought or may 
bind us, under the peril of our souls, to the believing of any 
such articles. 

Thirdly, because I will not for the favour of our divines 
or priests, be prejudicial in this point unto so many nations, of 
Germans, Helvetians, and others, which, altogether rejecting 
the transubstantiation of the bread and wine into the body and 
blood of Christ, are all of the same opinion that I am, as well 
those that take Luther's part, as those that hold with (Ecolam- 
padius. Which things standing in this case, I suppose there' 
is no man of any upright conscience who will not allow the 
reason of my death, which I am put unto for this only cause, 
that I do not think transubstantiation, although it were true 
indeed, to be established for an article of faith. 



Among the Cotton MSS. in the British Museum {Galha 
B. X) are two letters, one from Cromwell to Vaughan, 
the royal agent in the Low Countries, the other from 
Vaughan to the king, in ivhich mention is made of Frith, 
and which show that he was accounted of considerable 
importance. Vaughan writes : — 

" As concerning a young man being in these parts, named 
Frith, of whom I lately advertised your majesty, and whom 
your royal majesty giveth me in commandment with friendly 
persuasions, admonitions, and wholesome counsels to advertise 
to leave his wilful opinions and errors, and to return into his 
native country, I shall not fail, according unto your most gra- 
cious commandment, to endeavour to the utmost of my power 
to persuade him accordingly, so soon as my chance shall be to 
meet with him. Howbeit, I am informed that he is very lately 
married in Holland, but in what place I cannot tell. This 



16 Frith. 

marriage may by chance hinder my persuasions. I suppose 
him to have been thereunto driven through poverty, which is to 
be pitied, and his qualities considered." 

Cromwell writes thus to Vaughan : — 

" As touching Frith mentioned in your said letter, the king's 
highness hearing well of his towardness in good love and learn- 
ing, doth much lament that he should in such wise as he doth, 
set forth, show, and apply his learning and doctrine, in the se- 
mination and sowing forth evil seed of damnable and detesta- 
ble heresies, maintaining, bolstering, and administering the ve- 
nomous and pestiferous works, erroneous and seditious opinions, 
of the said Tindal and others, wherein his highness like a most 
virtuous and benign prince and guardian, having charge of his 
people and subjects, being very sorry to hear tell that any of 
the same should in such wise run headlong and digress from 
the laws of almighty God, and wholesome doctrines of holy 
fathers, unto such damnable heresies and seditious opinions, 
is inclined willingly and greatly desirous to provide for the 
same." 

' The letter then proceeds to state the king's readiness to pro- 
vide for Frith, if he could be brought to forsake the doctrines 
of Tindal, and, leaving his " wilful opinions, like a good Chris- 
tian would return to his native country," where he should find 
the king most favourable. Cromwell further exhorts Vaughan 
to use his best endeavours to win the refugees from their opin- 
ions, adding, " in which doing ye shall not only highly merit 
in almighty God, but also deserve highly thanks of the king's 
royal majesty, who will not forget your devoirs and labours in 
that behalf, so that his majesty may find that you effectually do 
intend the same." 

Frith's works, as reprinted by Fox, consist of, his book of 
purgatory. — An answer to Rastal's dialogue. — An answer to sir 
Thomas More. — Answer to Fisher, bishop of Rochester.-^A 
bulwark against Rastal. — Judgment upon M. Tracy's will and 
testament. — A letter written from the Tower to Christ's con- 
gregation. — A mirror or glass to know thyself. — A treatise 
upon the sacrament of baptism. — Antithesis between Christ 
and the pope. — A book of the sacrament of the body and blood 
of Ciirist. — Articles for which he died. Ho also translated 
some writings of foreign reformers. 



THE HISTORY 



DR. ROBERT BARNES. 



From the Acts and Monuments of John Fox, 

The first bringing up of Dr. Robert Barnes from a child, was 
in the university of Cambridge, and he was made a novice in 
the house of the x\ugustine friars in that place.* He being 
very apt unto learning, did so profit, that by the help of his 
friends, he was removed from thence to the university of Lo- 
vain, in Brabant, where he remained certain years, and greatly 
profited in the study of the tongues, and there proceeded doc- 
tor in divinity. From thence he returned again into England, 
and was made prior and master of the house of the Augustines, 
in Cambridge. 

At that time (about 1520) the knowledge of good letters was 
scarcely entered into the university, all things being fiill of 
rudeness and barbarity, saving in very few, which were little 
known and secret. Whereupon Barnes, having some feeling of 
better learning and authors, began in his house to read Terence, 
Plautus, and Cicero; so that what with his industry, pains, and 
labour, and with the help of Thomas Parnel, his scholar, whom 
he brought fi*om Lovaine with him, he caused the house shortly 
to flourish with good letters, and made a great part of the house 
learned, as master Cambridge, master Field, master Coleman, 
master Burley, master Coverdale, with divers others of the uni- 
versity, that sojourned there for learning's sake. After these 

* Br. Barnes was a native of L>Tin, where he was born about the end 
of the fifteenth century. He passed through the schools at Cambridge 
in 1514. His history, as given in Fox's Acts and Monuments, is reprinted 
here on account of the particulars it contains relative to cardinal Wolsey, 
and the early days of the Refonnation, which ought not to be omitted in 
this collection of the writings of the British Reformers. 

37* (77) 



ir 



78 Barnes. 



foundations laid, then did he read openly in the house Paul's 
epistles, and put by Duns and Dorbel,* and yet he was a ques- 
tionary himself. And because he would have Christ there taught 
and his holy word, he turned their unsavoury problems and 
fruitless disputations to other better matter of the holy scrip- 
tures, whereby in short space he made divers good divines. 
The same order of disputation, which he kept in his house, he 
observed likewise in the university abroad, when he should dis- 
pute with any man in the common schools. And the first man 
that answered doctor Barnes in the scriptures, was master 
Stafford for his form to be bachelor of divinity, which disputa- 
tion was marvellous in the sight of the great blind doctors, and 
joyful to the godly-spirited. 

Thus Barnes, what with his reading, disputation, and preach- 
ing, became famous and mighty in the scriptures, preaching 
ever against the bishops and hypocrites, and yet did not see his 
inward and outward idolatry, which he both taught and main- 
tained, till that good master Bilney, the martyr, with others, 
converted him wholly unto Christ. 

The first sermon that ever he preached of this truth, was the 
Sunday before Christmas-day, (1525,) at St. Edward's church, 
belonging to Trinity hall, in Cambridge, by the pease-market ; 
his theme was the epistle of the same Sunday, " Rejoice in the 
Lord, &c." And he so postilled f the whole epistle, following 
the scripture and Luther's postil, that for that sermon he was 
immediately accused of heresy by two fellows of King's hall. 
Then the godly learned in Christ, both of Pembroke hall, St. 
John's, Peter house. Queen's college, the King's college, Gon- 
well hall, and Bene't college, showed themselves, and flocked 
together in open sight, both in the schools and at open sermons 
at St. Mary's and at the Augustines, and at other disputations, 
and then they conferred continually together. 

The house that they resorted most commonly unto was the 
White-horse, which for despite of them, to bring God's word 
into contempt, was called Germany. This house especially was 
chosen because of them of St. John's. The King's college 
and the Queen's college men came in on the back of the house. 
At this time much trouble began to ensue. The adversaries of 
Dr. Barnes accused him in the regent house before the vice- 

* The divinity of the schools. t Expounded. 



Life. 79 

chancellor, where his articles were presented with him and 
received, he promising to make answer at the next convocation, 
and so it was done. Then Dr. Nottoris, a rank enemy to Christ, 
moved Dr. Barnes to recant, but he refiised so to do, which 
appears in his book that he made to king Henry VIII. in 
English, confuting the judgment of cardinal Wolsey, and the 
residue of the papistical bishops, and so for the time he stood 
steadfast. And this tragedy continued in Cambridge, one preach- 
ing against another, in trying out God's truth, until within six 
days of Shrovetide. Then suddenly was sent down to Cam- 
bridge a serjeant-at-arms, called master Gibson, dwelling in St. 
Thomas the apostle's in London, who suddenly arrested Dr. 
Barnes openly in the convocation-house, to make all others 
afraid ; and privily they had determined to make search for 
Luther's books, and all the German works suddenly. 

But good Dr. Forman of the Queen's college sent word im- 
mediately thereof, to the chambers of those that were suspected, 
who were in number thirty persons. But, God be praised, they 
were conveyed away by the time that the serjeant-at-arms, the 
vice-chancellor, and the proctors were at every man's chamber, 
going directly to the place where the books lay, whereby it was 
perceived that there were some privy spies amongst that small 
company. That night they studied together, and gave him 
his answer, which anwer Dr. Barnes carried with him to 
London the next morning, which was the Tuesday before 
Shrove Sunday, and came on the Wednesday to London, and lay 
at master Parnel's house, by the stocks. In the morning he 
was carried by the serjeant-at-arms to cardinal Wolsey, to 
Westminster, waiting there all day, but could not speak with 
him till night. Then by reason of Dr. Gardiner, secretary to 
the cardinal, of whose familiar acquaintance he had been before, 
and master Fox, master of the wards, he spoke the same night 
with the cardinal in his chamber of state, kneeling on his 
knees. Then, said the cardinal to them, " Is this Dr. Barnes 
your man, that is accused of heresy V — " Yea, and please your 
grace, and we trust you shall find him reformable, for he is both 
well learned and wise." 

** What, master doctor, said the cardinal, had you not a suf- 
ficient scope in the scriptures to teach the people, but that my 
golden shoes, my poleaxes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my 
crosses did so sorely oflTend you, that you must make us appear 



80 Barnes, 

ridiculous amongst the people'?* We were jollily that day 
laughed to scorn. Verily, it was a sermon more fit to be 
preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at the last you said, I 
wear a pair of red gloves, I should say, bloody gloves, said you, 
that I should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies." And 
Dr. Barnes answered, " I spake nothing but the truth out of the 
scriptures, according to my conscience, and according to the old 
doctors;" and then he delivered to him six sheets of paper 
written, to confirm and corroborate his sayings. 

He received them, smiling on him, and saying, " We per- 
ceive then, that you intend to stand to your articles, and to 
show your learning." 

" Yea," said Barnes, " that I do intend, by God's grace, with 
your lordship's favour." 

He answered, " Such as you are, do bear us and the catholic 
church little favour. I will ask you a question ; whether do 
you think it more necessary, that I should have all this royalty, 
because I represent the king's majesty's person in all the high 
courts of this realm, to the terror and keeping down of all re- 
bellions, treasons, traitors, all the wicked and corrupt members 
of this commonwealth ; or to be as simple as you would have us; 
to sell all these aforesaid things, and to give it to the poor, and 
so to put away this majesty of a princely dignity, which is a terror 
to all the wicked, and to follow your counsel in this behalf!" 

He answered, " I think it necessary to be sold and given to 
the poor. For this is not comely for your calling; nor is the 
king's majesty maintained by your pomp and poleaxes, but by 
God, who saith. Kings and their majesties reign and stand 
by me." 

Then answered he, *' Lo, master doctors, here is the learned 
wise man, that you told me of" Then they kneeled down and 
said, ** We desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will 
be reformablc." 

* StryDc says of cardinal Wolsry, "Thai outward appearance wliich he 
dclightca to show himself to the world in, besjiake the intolerable lofti- 
ness and vanity of his mind. For besides all the state and nmirniticence 
of his house and ollicc^rs which is related by Cavendish, his habit was 
most corneous. It was great that his upper vesture was all of scarlet, or 
else of fine crimson tafleta or crimson satin inpjrained; he wore red gloves 
as well as a red hat; but greater still that he wore shoes of silver and gilt, 
set with pearls and precious stones; having also two crosses of silver, and 
two poll-axes and pillars of silver and gilt, and golden cushions carried 
before \\\m.— Memorials^ i. p. 184. 



Life. 81 

Then said he, " Stand you up ; for your sakes and the uni- 
versity, we will be good unto him. How say you, master 
doctor, do you not know that I am Legatus de latere,* and that 
I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion within 
this realm, as much as the pope may ]" He said, " I know it to 
be so." 

" Will you then be ruled by us, and we will do all things for 
your honesty, and for the honesty of the university." 

He answered, " I thank your grace for your good will ; I 
will stick to the holy scripture, and to God's book, according 
to the simple talent that God hath lent me." 

" Answer well," said he, " thou shalt have thy learning tried 
to the uttermost, and thou shalt have the law." 

Then Dr. Barnes required that he might have justice with 
equity, and forthwith he should have gone to the Tower, but 
that Gardiner and Fox became his sureties that night, and so he 
came home to master Parnel's house again, and that night fell 
to writing again and slept not, master Coverdale, master Good- 
win, and master Field being his writers ; and in the morning 
he came to York-place to Gardiner and Fox, and by-and-by he 
was committed to the serjeant-at-arms to bring him into the 
chapter-house at Westminster before the bishops and the abbot 
of Westminster, called Islip. 

The same time when Dr. Barnes should appear before the 
cardinal, there were five Stilliard-menf to be examined for 
Luther's books and Lollardy ; but after they spied Barnes, they 
set the others aside, and asked the serjeant-at-arms what was 
his errand. He said he had brought one Dr. Barnes to be ex- 
amined of heresy, and presented both his articles and his accu- 
sers. Then immediately after a little talk, they swore him, and 
laid his articles to him. Who, like as he answered the cardi- 
nal before, so said he unto them ; and then he offered the book 
of his probations unto them. Who asked him, whether he had 
another for himself, and he said, *' Yea ;" showing it unto them. 
Who then took it from him, and said they should have no lei- 
sure to dispute with him at that present, for other affairs of the 
king's majesty, which they had to do, and therefore bade him 

* The pope's legate. 

t German merchants, called Easteiiings or merchants of the Stilliard, 
who dwelt at the place now called the Steel-yard in Thames-street, and 
were allowed particular privileges. 



82 Barnes, 

stand aside. Then they called the Stilliard-men again, one by 
one, and when they were examined, they called forth the master 
of the Fleet prison, and they were all committed to the Fleet. 
Then they called Dr. Barnes again, and asked him whether he 
would subscribe to his articles or no ; he subscribed willingly ; 
and they committed him and Parnel to the Fleet with the 
others. There they remained, till Saturday morning, and the - 
warden of the Fleet was commanded that no man should speak 
with him. 

On the Saturday he came again before them into the chapter- 
house, and there with the Stilliard-men remained till five 
o'clock at night. And after long disputations, threatenings 
and scornings, about five o'clock at night they called him, to 
know whether he would abjure or burn. He was then in a 
great agony, and thought rather to burn than to abjure. But 
then was he sent again to have the counsel of Gardiner and 
Fox, and they persuaded him rather to abjure than to burn, be- 
cause, they said, he should do more in time to come, and with 
divers other persuasions, that were mighty in the sight of rea- 
son and foolish flesh. Upon that, kneeling upon his knees, he 
consented to abjure, and the abjuration being put in his hand, 
he abjured as it was there written, and then he subscribed with 
his own hand ; and yet they would scarcely receive him into 
the bosom of the church, as they termed it. Then they put him 
to an oath, and charged him to execute, do, and fulfil all that 
they commanded him, and he promised so to do. 

Then they commanded the warden of the Fleet to carry him 
and his fellows to the place from whence he came, and to be 
kept in close prison, and in the morning to provide five fagots 
for Dr. Barnes and the four Stilliard-men. The fifth Stilliard- 
man was commanded to have a taper of five pounds weight to 
be provided for him, to oflibr to the rood of Northen in Paul's,* 
and all these things to be ready by eight of the clock in the 
morning; and that he with all that he could collect with bills 
and glcaves, and the knight marshal with all his tipstaves that 
he could gather, should bring them to Paul's and conduct them 
home again. In the morning they were all ready by their hour 
appointed in Paul's church, the church being so full that no man 
could get in. The cardinal had a scaffold made on tlie top of the 

* A cnicifix or representation of the crucifixion at the north door of 
St. Paul's. 



Life. 83 

stairs for himself, with six and thirty abbots, mitred priors, and 
bishops, and he in his whole pomp mitred, which Barnes spake 
against, sat there enthroned, his chaplains and spiritual doctors in 
gowns of damask and satin, and he himself in purple, (scarlet,) 
even like a bloody antichrist. And there was a new pulpit erect- 
ed on the top of the stairs also, for the bishop of Rochester to 
preach against Luther and Dr. Barnes ; and great baskets full 
of books standing before them within the rails, which were 
commanded, after the great fire was made afore the rood of 
Northen, there to be burned, and these heretics after the sermon 
to go thrice about the fire and to cast in their fagots. 

Now while the sermon was a doing. Dr. Barnes and the 
Stilliard-men were commanded to kneel down and ask God for- 
giveness, the catholic church, and the cardinal's grace ; and 
after that, he was commanded at the end of the sermon to 
declare that he was more charitably handled than he deserved, 
or was worthy, his heresies were so horrible and so detestable, 
and once again he kneeled down on his knees, desiring the 
people to forgive and to pray for him ; and so the cardinal de- 
parted under a canopy with all his mitred men with him, till he 
came to the second gate of Paul's, and then he took his mule, 
and the mitred men came back again. Then these poor men, 
being commanded to come down from the stage, (whereon the 
sweepers use to stand when they sweep the church), the bishops 
sat them down again, and commanded the knight marshal and 
the warden of the Fleet, with their company, to carry them 
about the fire, and so were they brought to the bishops, and 
there for absolution kneeled down. Rochester then stood up 
and declared unto the people, how many days of pardon and 
forgiveness of sins they had for being at that sermon, and there 
absolved Dr. Barnes with the others, and showed the people 
that they were received into the church again. 

This done, the warden of the Fleet and the knight marshal 
were commanded to have them to the Fleet again, and were 
charged that they should have the liberty of the Fleet, as other 
prisoners had, and that their friends might resort unto them, 
and there to remain till the lord cardinal's pleasure was known. 

After that Barnes had continued there in the Fleet the space 
of half a year, at length being delivered, he was committed to 
be a free prisoner at the Austin-friars in London. When those 
caterpillars and bloody men had there undermined him, they 



84 Barnes, 

complained again to the lord cardinal. Whereupon he was re- 
moved to the Austin-friars of Northampton, there to be burned. 
Yet he himself understanding nothing thereof, but supposing 
still, that he should there remain and continue in free prison, 
at last, one master Home, who had brought him up, and was 
his special friend, having intelligence of the writ, which should 
shortly be sent down to burn him, gave him counsel to feign 
himself to be in despair — and that he should write a letter to 
the cardinal and leave it on his table where he lay, and a paper 
by, to declare whither he was gone to drown himself, and to 
leave his clothes in the same place ; and there another letter to 
be left to the mayor of the town to search for him in the water, 
because he had a letter written in parchment about his neck, 
closed in wax for the Cardinal, which should teach all men to 
beware by his example. Upon this, they were seven days in 
searching for him, but he was conveyed to London in a poor 
man's apparel, and so tarried not there, but took shipping and 
went by sea to Antwerp, and so to Luther, and there fell to 
study, till he had made an answer to all the bishops of the realm 
and had made a book entitled. The acts of the Roman pontiffs ; 
and another book, with a supplication to king Henry. Imme- 
diately it was told the cardinal that he was drowned, and he 
said, " Perish his memory with his name." But this did light 
upon himself shortly after, who wretchedly died at Leicester. 

In the same season Dr. Barnes was made strong in Christ, 
and got favour both of the learned in Christ, and foreign 
princes in Germany, and was great with Luther, Melancthon, 
Pomeranus, Justus Jonas, Hegendorphinus, and ^pinus, and 
with the duke of Saxony, and with the king of Denmark, which 
king of Denmark in the time of More and Stokesley sent him 
with the Lubeckers, as an ambassador to king Henry the eightL* 
He lay with the Lubeck's chancellor at the Stilliard. 

Sir Thomas More, then lord chancellor, would fain have en- 
trapped him, but the king would not let him, for Cromwell was 
his great friend. And ere he went, the Lubeckers and he disputed 
with the bishops of this realm in defence of the truth, and so 
he departed again, without restraint, with the Lubeckers. After 
his going again to Wittenberg to the duke of Saxony, and to 

* Scckendorf in his history of Luthcranism mentions Ranies's residence 
at Wittenilx'rp !Io was employed in several negotiations with the Ger- 
man princes, while Cromwell was in power. 



Life. 85 

Luther,* he remained there to set forward his works in print 
that he had begun, from whence he returned again in the be- 
ginning of the reign of queen Anne (Boleyn), as others did, and 
he continued a faithful preacher in this city, being all her time 
well entertained and promoted. After that he was sent ambas- 
sador by king Henry the eighth to the duke of Cleves, for the 
marriage of the lady Ann of Cleves, between the king and her, 
and was well accepted in that embassy and in all his doings, 
until the time that Stephen Gardiner came out of France ; but 
after he came, neither religion prospered, nor the queen's ma- 
jesty, nor Cromwell, nor the preachers. For after the marriage 
of the lady Ann of Cleves, he never ceased until he had grafted 
the marriage in another stock, by the occasion whereof he began 
his bloody broil. 

For not long after. Dr. Barnes with two of his brethren in 
faith and tribulation, namely, master Garret, curate in Honey- 
lane in London, and master Hierome, vicar of Stepney, were 
apprehended and carried before the king's majesty to Hampton- 
court, and there he was examined. Where the king's majesty, 
seeking the means of his safety, to bring Winchester and him 
agreed, at Winchester's request granted him leave to go home 
with the bishop to confer with him ; and so he did. But as it 
happened, they not agreeing, Gardiner and his compartners 
sought by all subtle means, how to entangle and to entrap them 
in farther danger, which not long after was brought to pass. 
By certain complaints made to the king of them, they were 
enjoined to preach three sermons, the next Easter, at the Spital. 

The occasion whereof, as I find it reported by Stephen Gar- 
diner in his preface against George Joy, I will discourse more 
at large. The said Stephen Gardiner hearing that the said 
Barnes, Hierome, and Garret should preach the Lent following, 
anno 1541, at Paul's cross ; to stop the course of their doctrine, 
sent his chaplain to the bishop of London, the Saturday before 
the first Sunday in Lent, to have a place for him to preach at 
Paul's. Which was granted to him, and time appointed that 
he should preach the Sunday following, which should be on the 
morrow ; which Smiday was before appointed for Barnes to oc- 
cupy that room. Gardiner, therefore, determining to declare 
the gospel of that Sunday containing the devil's three tempta- 



* At Wittenberg in Germany. 

BARNES. 88 



80 Barnes, 

tions, began amongst other things to note the abuse of scripture 
amongst some, as the devil abused it to Christ, and so alluding 
to the temptation of the devil, v^^herein he alleged the scripture 
against Christ, to cast himself downward, and that he should 
take no hurt, he inferred thereupon, saying, 

"Now-a-days, the devil tempteth the world, and biddeth them 
to cast themselves backward. There is no forward in the new 
teaching, but all backward. Now, the devil teacheth, come 
back from fasting, come back from praying, come back from 
confession, come back from weeping for thy sins, and all is 
backward ; insomuch that men must now learn to say their 
Pater-noster (Lord's prayer) backward. For where w^e said, 
forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors, now it is. As 
thou forgavest our debts, so I will forgive my debtors, and so 
God must forgive first; and all, I say, is turned backward," (fee. 
And amongst other things, moreover, he noted the devil's craft 
and shift in deceiving man : wiio, envying his felicity, and there- 
fore coveting to have man idle, and void of good works, and to 
be led in that idleness, with a vain hope to live merrily at his 
pleasure here, and yet to have heaven at the last, hath for that 
purpose procured out pardons from Rome, wherein heaven was 
sold for a little money, and to retail that merchandise, the devil 
used friars for his ministers.* " Now they be gone with all 
their trumpery, but the devil is not yet gone, &:c. And now 
that the devil perceiveth that it can no longer be borne, to buy 
and sell heaven by the friars, he hath excogitated to offer 
heaven without works for it, so freely, that men shall not need 
to work at all for heaven, whatsoever opportunity they have to 
work; marry, if they will have any higher place in heaven, 
God will leave no work unrewarded ; but as to be in heaven 
needs no work at all, but *only belief, only, only,' and nothing 
else," &c. 

This sermon of Stephen Winchester finished. Dr. Barnes, 
who was put o^ from that Sunday, had his day appointed, 
which was the third Sunday next ensuing, to make his sermon : 
who taking the same text of the gospel which Gardiner had 
done before, was on the contrary side no less vehement in set- 
ting forward the true doctrine of Christian religion, than Win- 
chester had been before in plucking men backward from 

* At that time Gardiner opposed the pope's supremacy and usurpations, 
though he supported most of the doctrines of tlie church of Rome. 



Life. 87 

truth to lies, from sincerity to hypocrisy, from religion to 
superstition, from Christ to antichrist. In the process of which 
sermon, he, proceeding and calling" out Stephen Gardiner by 
name to answer him, alluding in a pleasant allegory to a cock 
fight, termed the said Gardiner to be a fighting cock, and him- 
self to be another, but the garden cock, he said, lacked good 
spurs ; objecting moreover to the said Gardiner, and opposing 
him in his grammar rules; thus saying, that if he had answered 
him in the schools, as he had there preached at the cross, 
he would have given him six stripes. Declaring further 
what evil herbs this Gardiner had set in the garden of God's 
scripture, &c.* 

Finally, with this sermon Gardiner was so displeased that he 
immediately went to the king to complain, showing how he, 
being a bishop and a prelate of the realm, was handled and 
reviled at Paul's cross. 

Whereupon the king, giving too much ear to Gardiner's 
grief, was earnestly incensed against Barnes, and with many 
high words rebuked his doings in his privy closet, having with 
him the earl of Southampton who was the lord Wriothesly, and 
the master of the horse, who was Anthony Brown, Dr. Cocks, 
and Dr. Robinson. Unto whom, when Barnes had submitted 
himself; " Nay," said the king, " yield thee not to me, I am a 
mortal man," and therewith rising up, and turning to the sacra- 
ment, and putting off his bonnet, said, " Yonder is the master 
of us all, the author of truth, yield in truth to him, and that 
truth will I defend, and otherwise yield thee not unto me." 
Much ado there was, and great matter laid against Barnes. In 
conclusion, this order was taken, that Barnes should go apart 
with Winchester, to confer and commune together of their 
doctrine, certain witnesses being thereunto appointed, to be as 
indifferent hearers, of whom the one was Dr. Cocks, the other 
was Dr. Robinson, with two others also to them assigned, who 
should be reporters to the king of the disputation. At the first 
entry of which talk, Gardiner, forgiving him, as he saith, all 
that was past, offered him the choice, whether he would answer 
or oppose — which was to be on the Friday after that Barnes 
had preached. The question propounded between them, by 
Gardiner's narration, was this ; Whether a man could do any 

* This method of playing upon words was very common and highly 
approved in those days. 



88 Barnes, 

thing gfood or acceptable before the grace of justification, or 
not? Which question rose upon a certain contention wliich had 
been between them before. For Barnes had affirmed, that albeit 
God requireth of us to forgive our neighbour, to obtain for- 
giveness of him ; yet he said, that God must forgive us first, 
before we forgive our neighbour ; for else to forgive our neigh- 
bour were sin, by the text which saith, All that is not of faith 
is sin, &c. Thus the matter being propounded, Gardiner, to 
prove the contrary, came forth wdth two or three arguments : 
to the which arguments Gardiner said, that Barnes could not 
answer, but desired to be spared that night, and the next morn- 
ing he would answer his arguments. In the morning, Gardiner, 
with the hearers, being again assembled. Dr. Barnes, according 
to the appointment, was present, who then went about to assail 
his arguments. To his solutions Gardiner again replied. And 
thus continued they in this altercation by the space of two hours. 
This done, the king, being advertised of the conclusion of this 
matter between Barnes and Winchester, was content that 
Barnes should repair to the bishop's house at London the 
Monday following. Which he did, with a certain other com- 
panion joined unto him. Who he was, Winchester there does 
not express, only he saith that it was neither Hierome, nor 
Garret. In this next meeting between Barnes and tlie bishop, 
upon the aforesaid Monday, the said bishop studying to instruct 
Barnes, uttered to him certain articles or conclusions, to the 
number of ten, the effect whereof here follow eth, (see p. 98.) 

These articles, for so much as they are sufficiently answered 
and replied unto by George Joy, in his joinder and rejoinder 
against Winchester, I shall not need to cumber this work with 
any new ado therewith, but only refer the reader to the books 
aforesaid, w^licre he may see matter enough to answer to these 
popish articles.* 

* George Joy assisted Tindal in his translation of the scriptures. The 
following extract is from the commencement of his confutation of Gar- 
dinrr's Articles. 

" I chanced upon certain articles, entitled to the bishop of Winchester, 
called Stephen (Jardiner, wliich were written against Dr. Barnes and his 
two followers, bunit l.'iU, for preaching only faith to justify. By these 
his articles, Winchester would prove that works must justify, that is to 
say, with our works we must merit the remission of our snis. Which 
doctrine, as it is contrary to (iod's word, so is it iniurious to Christ's 
blood. Wliosc i^odly name is o.ne alone, for all suflicient; even that 
same precious hid treasure in the gospel, in whom, saith Paul, are all the 
treasures of wisdom and knowledge hidden. For in him dwelleth the 



Life. 89 

I told you before, how the king was contented that Barnes 
should resort to the house of the bishop of Winchester, to be 
trained and directed by the bishop : which Barnes then hearing 
the talk of the people, and having also conference with certain 
learned men, within two days after his coming to the bishop's 
house, waxed weary thereof, and so, coming to the bishop, sig- 
nified unto him, that if he would take him as one that came to 
confer, he would come still, but else he would come no more, 
and so wholly gave over the bishop. 

This being known unto the king, through sinister complaints 
of popish sycophants, Barnes again was sent for, and convened 
before the king ; who, being grievously incensed against him, 
enjoined both him, Hierome, and Garret, at the solemn Easter 
sermons at St. Mary Spital, openly in writing to revoke the 
doctrine which they before had taught. At w^hich sermon, 
Stephen Gardiner himself was present to hear their recantation. 

First, Dr. Barnes, according to his promise made to the king, 
solemnly and formally began to make his recantation ; which 
done, he with much circumstance and obtestation called upon 
the bishop, and asking of him forgiveness, required him in token 
of a grant to hold up his hand, to the intent that he, there 
openly declaring his charity before the world, the bishop also 
would declare his charity in like manner. Which, when the 
bishop refused to do at the first, as he was required, Barnes 
again called for it, desiring him to show his charity, and to hold 

most perfect flilness of God verily ; and in him are we complete, even 
perfectly justified, without any interweaving of Winchester's works. 
This thing do I tell you, saith Paul, lest any man, as now would Win- 
chester, deceive you with his apparent popish persuasions. This full jus- 
tification, by only faith, Paul expresses clearly in these words also: 
*This our everlasting, living priest and intercessor, Christ, abideth for 
ever unto this end, even absolutely, fiilly, and perfectly, without any lack 
or breach, to save all them, that through him by faith come to God the 
Father.' Here are we taught, Christ to have an everlasting priesthood, 
to save perfectly and sufficiently, through our faith only, and that he ever 
liveth unto this same end. Wherefore, for the defence of our so plente- 
ous and perfect redemption, and for the rich favour and mercy of our 
heavenly Father, and free forgiveness in Christ's passion, through our 
faith only, and that the glory of his grace, whereby he hath made us his 
dearly beloved chosen children, through his beloved Son, should be 
praised, by whom we have redemption through his blood, even the remis- 
sion of sins, according to the riches of his so plenteous grace, unable to 
be diminished ; to defend this my Lord God's glory, I say, and to warn 
the simple unlearned, that they be not deceived by such blasphemous 
bishop's articles, I shall by Godi's help justly by his word clearly confute 
them, although he yet teach and preach them unto his own damnation, 
and deceiving of as many as believe him." 



90 Barnes, 

up his hand. Which when he had done with much ado, wag- 
ging his finger a little, then Barnes entering to his sermon, 
after his prayer made, began the process of a matter, preaching 
contrary to that which before he had recanted. Insomuch, 
that the mayor, when the sermon was finished, sitting with the 
bishop of Winchester, asked him whether he should from the 
pulpit send him to prison, to be forthcoming for that his bold 
preaching contrary to his recantation. The like also did 
Hierome, and Garret after him. 

The king had appointed before certain persons to make report 
of the sermons. Besides them there was one, who writing to a 
friend of his in the court, in the favour of these preachers, de- 
clared how they had all handled the matter, both to satisfy the 
recantation, and also in the same sermons to utter the truth, 
that it might spread without being hindered by the world. 
Wherefore, partly by these reporters, and partly by the negli- 
gent looking to this letter, which came to the lord Cromweira 
hands, saith Gardiner, Barnes with his other fellows were ap- 
prehended and committed to the Tower. Stephen Gardiner, 
in his book written against George Joy, would needs clear him- 
self, that he was in no part nor cause of their casting into the 
Tower, and gives this reason for it, that he had then no access, 
nor had after, so long as Cromwell's time lasted, to the king's 
secret counsel ; yet, notwithstanding, the said Gardiner cannot 
persuade us to the contrary, but that his private complaining to 
the king, and his secret whisperings in his friends' ears, and his 
other workings by his factors about the king, was a great 
sparkle to set their fagots on fire. 

Thus then Barnes, Hierome, and Garret, being committed to 
the Tower after Easter, there remained till the 30th day of July, '^ 
which was two days after the death of the lord Cromwell. 
Then ensued process against them by the king's council in par- 
liament, to the which process Gardiner confesses that he was 
privy amongst the rest. Whereupon, all those three good 
saints of God, the 30th day of July, not coming to any answer, - 
nor yet knowing any cause of their condenmation, without any 
public hearing, were brouglit together from the Tower to 
Smithfi(*ld,* where they preparing themselves to the fire, had 

* Stowp, in his annals, a. d. 1511, Bays "The 30th of July were drawn 
from the Towrr of London to West Srnithfield, Hol)ert Banies, doctor of 
divinity, T. Cicrard, parson of lloney-lanc, and William Jerome, vicar of 



Life. 91 

there at the stake divers and sundry exhortations, among whom 
Dr. Barnes first began with this protestation following : 

*' I am come hither to be burned as a heretic, and you shall 
hear my belief, whereby you shall perceive what erroneous 
opinions I hold. God I take to record, I never, to my know- 
ledge, taught any erroneous doctrine, but only those things 
which scripture led me unto, and that in my sermons I never 
maintained any error, neither moved nor gave occasion of any 
insurrection. Although I have been slandered to preach that 
our lady was but a saffron bag, which I utterly protest before 
God that I never meant it, nor preached it ; but all my study 
and diligence hath been utterly to confound and confute all men 
of that doctrine, as are those who deny that our Saviour Christ 
did take any flesh of the blessed virgin Mary, which sects I 
detest and abhor. And in this place there have been burned 
some of them, whom I never favoured nor maintained, but with 
all diligence ever more did I study to set forth the glory of 
God, the obedience to our sovereign lord the king, and the true 
and sincere religion of Christ — and now hearken to my faith. 

" I believe in the holy and blessed Trinity, three persons and 
one God, that created and made all the w^orld, and that this 
blessed Trinity sent down the second person Jesus Christ into 
the womb of the most blessed and purest virgin Mary. And 
here bear my record, that I do utterly condemn that abomina- 
ble and detestable opinion which saith that Christ took no flesh 
of the virgin. For I believe that without man's will or power 
he was conceived by the Holy Ghost, and took flesh of her, 
and that he suffered hunger, thirst, cold, and other passions of 
our body, sin excepted ; according to the saying of St. Peter, 
he was made in all things like to his brethren, except sin. And 
I believe that his death and passion, was the suSicient ransom 
for the sin of all the world. And I believe that through his 

Stepenheath, bachelors in divinity. Also Edward Powell, Thomas Able, 
and Richard Fetherstone, all three doctors. The first three were drawn 
to a stake and there bumed. The other three were drawn to a gallows 
and there hanged, headed, and quartered. The three first as appeareth 
in their attainders were executed for divers heresies. The last three for 
tieaflon, as in their attainder was mentioned, namely, for denying the 
king's supremacy, and affirming the marriao:e with queen Catharine to be 
good, of the which argument doctor Powell wrote a book." 

It is related that the three Romanists considered their sufferincfs much 
aggravated \w being drawn to execution on the same sledges as Geretics ! 
These dreadfijl and barbarous executions show the extent to which the 
conflicts of the parties of that reign proceeded. 



92 Barnes, 

death he overcame sin, death, and hell, and that there is none 
other satisfaction unto the Father, but this, his death and pas- 
sion only, and that no work of man did deserve any thing of 
God, but only his passion, as touching our justification. For I 
know the best work that ever I did is impure and imperfect." 
And with this he cast abroad his hands, and desired God to for- 
give him his trespasses. " For although perchance," said he, 
" you know nothing of me, yet do I confess, that my thoughts 
and cogitations are innumerable ; wherefore I beseech thee, 

Lord, not to enter into judgment with me ; according to the 
saying of the prophet David, Enter not into judgment with thy 
servant, O Lord ! And in another place. Lord, if thou straitly 
mark our iniquities, who is able to abide thy judgment 1 
Wherefore, I trust in no good work that ever I did, but only in 
the death of Christ. I do not doubt but through him to inherit 
the kingdom of heaven. Take me not here, that I speak against 
good works, for they are to be done, and verily they that do 
them not shall never come into the kingdom of God. We must 
do them, because they are commanded us of God, to show and 
set forth our profession, not to deserve or merit, for that is only 
the death of Christ. 

" I believe that there is a holy church, and a company of all 
them that do profess Christ; and that all that have suffered 
and confessed his name, are saints ; and that all they do praise 
and laud God in heaven, more than I, or any man's tongue can 
express, and I have always spoken reverently, and praised 
them, as much as scripture willed me to do. And that our lady, 

1 say, was a virgin immaculate and undefiled, and that she is 
the most pure virgin that ever God created, and a vessel elect 
of God, of whom Christ should be born." Then said master 
sheriff, " You have said well of her before." And being afraid 
that master sheriff had been or should be grieved with any 
thing that lie should say, he said, " Master sheriff, if I speak 
any thing that you will me not, do no more, but beckon me 
with your hand, and I will straightway hold my peace, for I 
will not be disobedient in any thing, but will obey." 

Then there was one that asked him his opinion of praying to 
saints. Then said he ; ** Now of saints you shall liear my 
opinion : I have said before somewhat I think of them ; how 
that I believe they are in heaven with God, and that they are 
worthy of all the honour, that scripture willeth them to have. 



Life. 93 

But, T say, throughout all scripture we are not commanded to 
pray to any saints. Therefore I neither can nor will preach to 
you, that saints ought to be prayed unto; for then should I 
preach unto you a doctrine of mine own head. Notwithstand- 
ing, whether they pray for us or no, that I refer to God. And 
if saints do pray for us, then I trust to pray for you within this 
half hour, master sheriff, and for every Christian man living in 
the faith of Christ, and dying in the same, as a saint. Where- 
fore, if the dead may pray for the quick, I will surely pray for 
you." 

" Well, have you any thing more to say 1" Then spake he to 
master sheriff and said, " Have you any articles against me for 
the which I am condemned ?" And the sheriff answered, "No." 
Then said he, " Is there here any man else that knoweth where- 
fore I die, or that by my preaching hath taken any error 1 Let 
them now speak and I will make them answer." And no man 
answered. " Then," said he, " well, I am condemned by the 
law to die, and as I understand, by an act of parliament, but 
wherefore I cannot tell, but belike for heresy, for we are like to 
burn.* But they that have been the occasion of it, I pray God 
forgive them, as I would be forgiven myself. And Dr. Stephen, 
bishop of Winchester that now is, if he have sought or wrought 
this my death, either by word or deed, I pray God forgive him, 
as heartily, as freely, as charitably, and without feigning, as 
ever Christ forgave them that put him to death. 

"And if any of the council, or any others have sought or 
wrought it through malice or ignorance, I pray God forgive 
their ignorance, and illuminate their eyes that they may see, 
and ask mercy for it. I beseech you all to pray for the king's 
grace, as I have done ever since I was in prison, and do now, 
that God may give him prosperity, and that he may long reign 
among you, and after him that godly prince, Edward, may so 
reign, that he may finish those things, that his father hath be- 
gun. I have been reported to be a preacher of sedition and 
disobedience unto the king's majesty; but here I say to you, 
that you all are bound by the commandment of God to obey 
your prince with all humility, and with all your heart, yea, nof 
BO much as in a look to show yourselves disobedient unto him, 

* The Romanists who suffered at the same time for denying the king's 
supremacy were hanged. Barnes and his companions were sentenced 
under the act of six articles. See the life of Cranmer. 



94 Barnes, 

and that not only for fear of the sword, but also for conscience 
sake before God. Yea, and I say further, if the king should 
command you any thing against God's law, if it be in your 
power to resist him, yet may you not do it." 

Then spake he to the sheriff and said, " Master sheriff, I 
require you on God's behalf, to have me commended unto the 
king's grace, and to show him that I require of his grace these 
five requests; first, that where his grace hath received into his 

hand all the goods and substance of the abbeys " Then 

the sheriff desired him to stop there. He answered, " Master 
sheriff, I warrant you I will speak no harm, for I know it is 
well done that all such superstition be wholly taken away, and 
the king's grace hath well done in taking it away. But his 
grace is made a whole king, and obeyed in his realm as a king, 
which neither his father, neither any of those his ancestors, that 
reigned before him, ever had, and that through the preaching 
of us and such other wretches as we are, which always have 
applied our whole studies, and given ourselves for the setting 
forth of the same ; and this is now our reward ! Well, it 
raaketh no matter. Now he reigneth among you ; I pray God, 
long may he live and reign among you. Would to God, it 
might please his grace to bestow the said goods, or some of 
them, to the comfort of his poor subjects, which surely have 
great need of them. 

" The second, that I desire of his grace, is, that he will see 
that matrimony be had in more reverence than it is ; and that 
men, for every light cause invented, cast not off their wives, 
and live in adultery and fornication ; and that those, that are 
not married should not live abominably, following the filthy 
lusts of the flesh. 

*' The third, that the abominable swearers may be punished 
and straitly looked upon ; for the vengeance of God will come 
on them for their misciiievous oaths." Then desired he master 
Pope to have him commended to master Edgar, and to desire 
liim for the dear blood of Jesus Christ, that he would leave that 
abominable swearing which he used; for surely, except he did 
forsake it, he would come to some mischievous end. 

"The fourtli, that his grace would set forth C'hrist's true re- 
ligion, and seeing ho hath begun, go forward and make an end ; 
for many things have been done, but mucli more is to do; and 
that it would please his grace to look on God's word himself, for 



Life. 95 

that it hath been obscured with many traditions, invented of 
our own brains. — Now," said he, " How many petitions have I 
spoken of]" And the people said, " Four." — " Well," said he, 
" even these four are sufficient, which I desire you, that the 
king's grace may be certified of, and say, that I most humbly 
desire him to look earnestly upon them ; and that his grace 
take heed that he be not deceived with false preachers and 
teachers, and evil counsel, for Christ saith, that such false pro- 
phets shall come in lambs' skins." 

Then desired he all men to forgive him, and if he had said 
any evil at any time unadvisedly, whereby he had offended any 
man, or given any occasion of evil, that they would forgive it 
him, and amend that evil they took of him, and to bear him 
witness that he detested and abhorred all evil opinions and 
doctrines against the word of God, and that he died in the faith 
of Jesus Christ, by whom he doubted not but to be saved. 
And with those words he desired them all to pray for him, and 
then he turned him about, and put off his clothes, making him 
ready to the fire, patiently there to take his death. 

And so after prayer made by him and his two fellow martyrs, 
wherein most effectually they desired the Lord Jesus to be their 
comfort and consolation in this their affliction, and to establish 
them with perfect faith, constancy, and patience through the 
Holy Ghost, they taking themselves by the hands, and kissing 
one another, quietly and humbly offered themselves to the hands 
of the tormentors, and so took their death both christianly and 
constantly with such patience as might well testify the good- 
ness of their cause, and the quiet of their conscience.* 

The works of Barnes are not numerous. He wrote in Latin 
the lives of the popes, and compiled in the same language 
" The Principal Articles of the Christian Faith," set forth from 
the sacred scriptures and the writings of the fathers. These 
Latin works were written during his abode at Wittenberg. 
Barnes indeed may be considered as a principal connecting 
link between the English and the Lutheran Reformers. He 
had much of the bold, uncompromising spirit of Luther, with 
whom he had been an inmate. Luther wrote a preface to the 

* " One Standish, a fellow of Whittington college, a papist, wrote a 
scurrilous book against Barnes, refuting what he had said immediately 
before his burning, which his friend and old acquaintance Coverdale an- 
swered, and justified the deceased martyr." Strype, Memorials, i. 570. 



ii. 



96 Barnes. 



lives of the popes, which is reprinted by Seckendorf. (Hist 
Luth. Ind. iii.) 

The doctrines of Barnes may be collected from the titles of 
" The Principal Articles of the Christian Faith," which were 
printed with a preface by Pomeranus. 1. Faith alone justifies. 

2. Christ has satisfied not only for original sin, but for all sins. 

3. The Commandments of God cannot be kept by our own 
strength. 4. Free-will of its ow^n strength can do nothing but 
sin. 5. The righteous sin, even in good works. 6. The cha- 
racteristics of the true church set forth. 7. The power of the 
keys (Matt. xvi. 19) depends upon the word of God, not the 
power of men. 8. Councils may err. 9. The communion is 
to be given under both kinds. 10. Human ordinances do not 
bind the conscience. 11. Auricular confession is not necessary 
to salvation. 12. Priests may lawfully marry. 13. Monks are 
not more holy than laymen, on account of their habits and 
vows. 14. Christian fasting consists not in abstinence from 
particular kinds of food. 15. Christians keep holy, or worship 
God, every day, not merely on the seventh. 16. Unjust papal 
excommunications do not hurt those against whom they are 
directed. 17. The real body of Christ is in the sacrament of 
the altar. 18. Saints are not to be invoked as mediators. 19. 
He exposes the errors of tlie Romish mass. On all the above 
subjects he adduced the words of scripture, or the writings of 
the fathers, or both, in support of his arguments. 

In English, his principal work is a supplication to king Henry 
Vni. against the proceedings of the Romish prelates. In this 
work he treats upon a variety of doctrinal subjects, with an 
interesting but prolix account of the manner in whicli he was 
persecuted by the ecclesiastics, and his examinations before 
cardinal Wolsey. This work is divided into the following 
chapters or divisions, which embrace the greater part of the 
lieads of doctrine he had set forth in Latin, but considerably 
enlarged. A supplication to king Henry VHI. His (Barnes) 
articles condemned by popish bishops. — The disputation be- 
tween the bishops and him. — Faith only justifieth before God. — 
What the church is, and who are thereof; and whereby men 
may know her. — Another declaration of the church wherein he 
answcreth M. More. — What the keys of the church are, and 
to whom they were given. — Free will of man, after the fall of 
Adam, of his own natural strcngtli, can do nothing but sin 



I 



II 



Life. 97 

before God. — That it is lawful for all manner of men to read 
the holy scripture. — That men's constitutions (decrees) which 
are not grounded in scripture, bind not the conscience of man 
under the pain of deadly sin. — That all men are bound to re- 
ceive the holy communion in both kinds, under the pain of 
deadly sin. — That by God's word it is lawful for priests that 
have not the gift of chastity, to marry wives. — That it is 
against the holy scripture to honour images and to pray to 
saints. 

In the folio edition of Barnes's works printed by Day, some 
additions are appended to the preceding treatises, so that the 
whole of his Latin work on the articles of the Christian faith 
is given to the English reader. 

Of these pieces, the treatise on justification is the most suit- 
able for the present collection. It clearly shows how much 
this early British reformer had profited by his intercourse with 
the German protestants, according to the account given by his 
fellow-collegian Bale, who mentions his escape to the continent, 
and that he " took refuge with Luther in Germany ; where, 
having remained for some years in friendship with that great 
reformer, and many other lovers of true piety, he again returned 
into England. From that time he with great firmness and sin- 
cerity maintained the justification of a sinner, through faith 
alone in the work of Christ our Saviour, against the ungodly 
preachers of human works : this he did both in sermons and 
writings ; resting on the promise that the head of the old ser- 
pent would be bruised by the holy Seed alone. Satan there- 
fore speedily devised new machinations against him through 
the medium of the insidious prelates. Under whose tyranny, 
although he seemed to sink, like one vanquished ; yet now the 
departed saint triumphantly reigns in glory, and is made more 
than conqueror over his ungodly survivors." 

The confidence with which Barnes contended for the faith 
" delivered to the saints," is thus expressed by himself in the 
statement of his opinions condemned by the Romanists: — 
" And where my lord cardinal said he would spend so much 
money to have me again, I have great marvel of it. What 
can they make of me ] I am a simple poor wretch and worth 
no man's money in the world, saving theirs, not the tenth penny 
that they will give for me. And to burn me, or to destroy me, 

BARNES. 39 



98 Barnes, 



cannot so greatly profit them. For when I am dead, the sun 
and the moon, the stars and the elements, water and fire, yea, 
and also stones, shall defend this cause against them rather 
than the verity should perish." 



WINCHESTER'S ARTICLES AGAINST BARNES. 

(See page 88.) 

1. The effect of Christ's passion hath a condition. The flilfilling of the 
condition diminisheth nothing the effect of Christ's passion. 

2. They that will enjoy the effect of Christ's passion, must fulfil the 
condition. 

3. The fulfilling of the condition requireth first knowledge of the con- 
dition, which knowledge we have by faith. 

4. Faith cometh of God, and this faith is a good gift. It is good and 
profitable to me : it is profitable to me to do well, and to exercise this 
faith; ergo, by the gift of God. I may do well before I am justified. 

5. Therefore, I may do well by the gift of God before I am justified, 
towards the attainment of justification. 

6. There is ever as much charity towards God, as faith ; and as faith 
increaseth, so doth charity increase. 

7. To the attainment of justification is required faith and charity. 

8. Eveiy thing is to be called freely done, whereof the beginning is free 
and at liberty, without any cause of provocation. 

9. Faith must be to me the assurance of the promises of God made in 
Christ, (if I fulfil the condition,) and love must accomplish the condition ; 
whereupon followelh the attainment of die promise according to God's 
truth. 

10. A man, being in deadly sin, may have grace to do the works of 
penance, whereby he may attain to his justification. 



SOME ACCOUNT 



KING EDWARD VI. 



Edward the Sixth was the son of Henry VIII. by his third 
wife, Jane Seymour. He was born at Hampton-court, October 
12th, 1537, where he was christened with much ceremony on 
the 15th of the same month. The birth of a prince had been 
long desired, but the joy with which the intelligence was re- 
ceived by the court and the nation, was abated by the death of 
the queen, his mother, on the 24th, twelve days after the birth 
of her son.* Henry was much afflicted, and showed that he 
was not insensible to the loss he had sustained ; even the festi- 
vities of the ensuing Christmas were not allowed to put aside 
the outward tokens of respect to her memory. 

The care which Henry VIII. evinced for the welfare of his 
children, with his anxiety to place them under the charge of 
learned and pious instructors, are circumstances which prove 
the character of that monarch, with all his faults, to have 
been very different from the representations of those who 
cannot forgive the part he took in freeing this country from the 
iron bands of popery. At the early age of six years, prince 
Edward was com.mitted to the charge of able preceptors, the 
principal of whom was Sir Anthony Cook, a sincere favourer of 
the gospel, whose own children manifested their father's suit- 
ableness for such a trust. Another of his early tutors was 
Dr. Richard Cox, moderator of the school of Eton, afterwards 
dean of Christ Church and chancellor of the university of 
Oxford, and lastly bishop of Ely. When Dr. Cox received an 
ecclesiastical appointment which often required him to be 
absent from his noble pupil. Sir John Cheke, then professor of 
Greek at Cambridge, where he had, with much difficulty, in- 

* Some historians have by mistake stated October the 14th as the day 
of queen Jane's death ; the error, probably at first unintentional, has been 
copied from one to another. By this the Romanists have strengthened 
their legend of Henry's desiring that the life of the child might be pre- 
served by the death of his mother, which they still repeat. The falsehood 
of that statement is clearly proved by a book among the records of the 
Herald's college, (see Strype's Memorials,) which gives all the particulars 
relative to the queen's funeral, and the various ceremonies of attendance 
on the corpse, from her decease to the interment. An original letter from 
her physicians to the council is also in existence, dated the 24th^ which 
describes her declining state, from an illness incident to her condition, 
and mentions her being supposed to be near death. There is also a letter 
extant from the queen herself, written after the birth of her son. 

EDWARD VI. 2 (1) 



2 King Edward VL — Life. 

troduced a more correct pronunciation of that language,* was 
appointed tutor to the prince. These excellent and learned 
men gave full attention to their important charge. The manner 
in which their labours were blessed is thus described by 
William Thomas, afterwards clerk of the council, himself a 
learned man. In a work entitled The Pilgrim, he says, *' If 
ye knew the towardness of that young prince, your hearts 
would melt to hear him named, and your stomach abhor the 
malice of them that would him ill. The beautifullest creature 
that liveth under the sun ; the wittiest, the most amiable, and 
the gentlest thing of all the world. Such a capacity in learn- 
ing the things taught him by his schoolmasters, that it is a 
wonder to hear say. And finally, he hath such a grace of pos- 
ture, and gesture in gravity, w^hen he comes into a presence, 
that it should seem he were already a father, and yet passes he 
not the age of ten years. A thing undoubtedly much rather to 
be seen than believed." Sufficient proof still remains of the 
progress made by prince Edward under these instructors, from 
numerous letters written by him in Latin and in French, some 
as early as his ninth year, also by several Latin orations or 
themes, preserved in the British Museum. At this period of 
his life the prince chiefly resided in Hertfordshire. Of his 
tutors, Cheke appears to have been the most constantly with 
him, but the early formation of his habits and temper probably 
had devolved principally upon Cook and Cox. The prince 
aftprward told Cardan he had two masters. Moderation and 
Diligence, designating Cox by the former, and Cheke by the 
latter appellation. Curio, the Italian reformer, addressing 
Cheke and Cook, said, " that by their united prayers, counsels, 
and industry, they had formed a king of the highest, even of 
divine hopes." But, in the history of this excellent prince, 
Cranmer must never be forgotten. The watchful care of tliat 
excellent prelate, and his anxiety for the progress of the refor- 
mation, were continually exercised for the benefit of the heir to 
the crown, and for his advancement in true religion and sound 
learning. It is however evident, that more than mere natural 
docility prepared the youthful prince to receive the instructions 
of his able and pious preceptors. The eff'ects of divine influence 
upon his heart were manifest during the whole of his short 
yet interesting course. Without this, human teachers would 
have planted and watered in vain. 

We have not many anecdotes of the youthful days of this excel- 
lent prince; but one which is characteristic of his piety, and evi- 
dences the principles in which he was trained, has been preserv- 
ed by Fuller. VV^hen cngaij^ed with some companions in amuse- 
ments suitable for his age, he wished to take down from a shelf 

* Cardiner's zeal against every kind of reformation, and especially any 
vvliich i^romoted the study of the scriptures in the ori<zinal, was shown by 
his decided onjjosition to this improvement, he threatened expulsion to 
all who should favour it. 



I 



His education — the Protector* s prayer. 3 

something above his reach. One of his playfellows offered him a 
large bible to stand upon, but perceiving it to be a bible, Edward 
refused such assistance with much indignation. He sharply re- 
proved the offerer, adding, it was unfit that he should trample 
' under his feet that which he ought to treasure up in his head 
and heart. 

Fox says, that there was not wanting in the prince any dili- 
gence to receive that which his instructors would teach him. So 
that in the midst of all his play and recreation, he would always 
observe to keep the hours appointed to his study, using the same 
with much attention, till time called him again from his book to 
pastime. In this, his study and keeping of his hours, he so pro- 
fited, that Cranmer, beholding his towardness, his readiness in 
both tongues, in translating from Greek to Latin, from Latin to 
Greek again, in declaiming with his shool-fellows without help 
of his teachers, and that extempore, wept for joy, declaring to 
Dr. Cox, his schoolmaster, that he would never have thought it 
to have been in the prince except he had seen it himself 

Fox then mentions prince Edward's exact knowledge of the 
various parts of his own realm, Scotland, and France ; also his 
minute acquaintance with the names and characters of all the 
magistrates and gentlemen who bore any authority. A manu- 
script in the British Museum relates how a schoolmaster, named 
Heme, incited his unwilling scholars to apply themselves more 
diligently to their books, and to improve in learning, by emula- 
ting the example of their prince. 

While prince Edward was in the tenth year of his age, and' 
was thus preparing for the duties which lay before him, Henry 
VIIL died, on January 28th, 1547. The office of protector 
devolved upon the earl of Hertford, one of the young king's 
maternal uncles. The appointment of this nobleman to that 
important office became a means of promoting the reformation. 
His piety appears from a devout prayer which he seems to have 
used constantly with reference to the important charge which 
devolved upon him. It is as follows : — 

" Lord God of hosts, in w^hose only hand is life and death, 
victory and confusion, rule and subjection, receive me, thy 
humble creature, into thy mercy, and direct me in my requests, 
that I offend not thy high majesty. O my Lord and my God, I 
am the work of thy hands; thy goodness cannot reject me. I 
am the price of thy Son's death, Jesu Christ ; for thy Son's sake 
thou wilt not lose me. I am a vessel for thy mercy: thy justice 
will not condemn me. I am recorded in the book of Jife, I am 
written with the very blood of Jesus ; thy inestimable love will 
not cancel then my name. For this cause, Lord God, I am bold 
to speak to thy Majesty. Thou, Lord, by thy providence hast 
called me to rule ; make me therefore able to follow thy calling. 
Thou, Lord, by thine order hast committed an anointed king to 
my governance ; direct me therefore with thy hand, that I err 



4 King Edward VI. — Life. 

not from thy good pleasure. Finish in me, Lord, thy beginning, 
and begin in me that thou wilt finish. 

"By thee do kings reign, and from thee all power is derived. 
Govern me, Lord, as I shall govern ; rule me, as I shall rule. 
I am ready for thy governance ; make thy people ready for 
mine. I seek thy only honour in my vocation ; amplify it. Lord, 
with thy might. If it be thy will that I shall rule, make thy 
congregation subject to my rule. Give me power, Lord, to sup- 
press whom thou wilt have to obey. 

" I am by appointment thy minister for thy king, a shepherd 
for thy people, a sword-bearer for thy justice : prosper the king, 
save thy people, direct thy justice. I am ready. Lord, to do 
that thou commandest; command that thou wilt. Remember, 

God, thine old mercies; remember thy benefits showed 
heretofore. Remember, Lord, me thy servant, and make me 
worthy to ask. Teach me what to ask, and then give me that 

1 ask. None other I seek to, Lord, but thee, because none other 
can give it me. And that I seek is thine honour and glory. 

" I ask victory, but to show thy power upon the wicked. 1 
ask prosperity, but for to rule in peace thy congregation. I ask 
wisdom, but by my counsel to set forth thy cause. And as I 
ask for myself, so. Lord, pour thy knowledge upon all them 
which shall counsel me. And forgive them, that in their offence 
I suflfer not the reward of their evil. 

" If I have erred. Lord, forgive me ; for so thou hast promised 
me. If I shall not err, direct me; for that only is thy property. 
Great things, O my God, hast thou begun in my hand ; let me 
then. Lord, be thy minister to defend them. Thus I conclude, 
Lord, by the name of thy Son Jesus Christ. Faithfully I commit 
all my cause to thy high providence, and so rest to advance all 
human strength under the standard of thy omnipotcncy.'' 

The coronation took place on the 28th of February. The usual 
grant of a general pardon followed ; thus the prosecutions for 
religion commenced during the latter years of tlie preceding 
reign, under the act of six articles, were terminated. Although 
that and other persecuting acts were not regularly repealed till 
some months after, many were released from prison, and a num- 
ber of learned and pious individuals were allowed to return from 
exile, whose assistance gave new vigour to the eflx)rts for reforma- 
tion. But the most remarkable circumstance connected with the 
coronation, was the address of archbishop Cranmcr to the youth- 
ful monarch. The prolate therein gave the following charge, 
which the king did not forget, as his subsequent conduct shows. 
This address was found among the collections of archbishop Usher. 

" Most dread and royal sovereign ; the promises your highness 
hath made here, at your coronation, to forsake the devil and all 
his works, are not to be taken in the bishop of Rome's sense; 
when you commit any thing distasteful to that see, to hit your 
majesty in the teeth, as pope Paul the third, late bishop of 






His coronation — Cranmer^s charge. 5 

Rome, sent to your royal father, saying", ' Didst thou not pro- 
mise, at our permission of thy coronation, to forsake the devil 
and all his works, and dost thou run to heresy 1 For the breach 
of this thy promise, knowest thou not, that it is in our power to 
dispose of thy sword and sceptre to whom we please 7 We, your 
majesty's clergy, do humbly conceive, that this promise reacheth 
not at your highness's sword, spiritual or temporal, or in the 
least at your highness swaying the sceptre of this your domi- 
nion, as you and your predecessors have had them from God. 
Neither could your ancestors lawfully resign up their crowns to 
the bishop of Rome or his legates, according to their ancient 
oaths then taken upon that ceremony. 

" The bishops of Canterbury, for the most part, have crowned 
your predecessors, and anointed them kings of this land ; yet it 
was not in their power to receive or reject them ; neither did it 
give them authority to prescribe them conditions to take or 
leave their crowns, although the bishops of Rome would en- 
croach upon your predecessors, by their act and oil, that in the 
end they might possess those bishops with an interest to dispose 
of their, crowns at their pleasure. But the wiser sort will look 
to their claws and clip them. 

" The solemn rites of coronation have their ends and utility ; 
yet neither direct force or necessity : they are good admonitions 
to put kings in mind of their duty to God, but no increasement 
of their dignity ; for they are God's anointed ; not in respect of 
the oil which the bishop useth, but in consideration of their 
power, which is ordained ; of the sword, which is authorized ; 
of their persons, which are elected of God, and endued with the 
gifts of his Spirit, for the better ruling and guiding of his people. 

" The oil, if added, is but a ceremony : if it be wanting, that 
king is yet a perfect monarch notwithstanding, and God's 
anointed, as well as if he was inoiled. Now for the person or 
bishop that doth anoint a king, it is proper to be done by the 
chiefest. But if they cannot, or will not, any bishop may per- 
form this ceremony. 

" To condition with monarchs upon these ceremonies, the 
bishop of Rome (or other bishops owning his supremacy) hath 
no authority ; but he may faithfully declare what God requires 
at the hands of kings and rulers, that is, religion and virtue. 
Therefore, not from the bishop of Rome, but as a messenger 
from my Saviour Jesus Christ, I shall most humbly admonish 
your royal majesty, what things your highness is to perform. 

" Your majesty is God's vicegerent, and Christ's vicar within 
your own dominions, and to see, with your predecessor Josiah, 
God truly worshipped, and idolatry destroyed ; the tyranny of 
the bishops of Rome banished from your subjects, and images 
removed. These acts are signs of a second Josiah, who reform- 
ed the church of God in his days. You are to reward virtue, to 
revenge sin, to justify the innocent, to relieve the poor, to pro- 
cure peace, to repress violence, and to execute justice through- 



6 King Edward VL — Life. 

out your realms. For precedents on those kings who performed 
not these things, the old law shows how the Lord revenged his 
quarrel ; and on those kings who fulfilled these things, he poured 
forth his blessings in abundance. For example, it is written of 
Josiah, in the book of the Kings, thus : * Like unto him there 
was no king, that turned to the Lord with all his heart, accord- 
ing to all the law of Moses ; neither after him arose there any 
like him.' This was to that prince a perpetual fame of dignity, 
to remain to the end of days. 

" Being bound by my function to lay these things before your 
royal highness ; the one, as a reward if you fulfil ; the other, as 
a judgment from God if you neglect them ; yet I openly declare, 
before the living God, and before these nobles of the land, that 
I have no commission to denounce your majesty deprived, if 
your highness miss in part, or in whole, of these performances : 
much less to draw up indentures between God and your majesty; 
or to say you forfeit your crown, with a clause for the bishop of 
Rome, as have been done by your majesty's predecessors, king 
John and his son Henry of this land. The Almighty God of 
his mercy let the light of his countenance shine upon your ma- 
jesty, grant you a prosperous and happy reign, defend you, and 
save you ; and let your subjects say. Amen. 

** God save the King." 

The piety of the youthful monarch was manifested at the 
coronation. Bale relates, upon the authority of credible wit- 
nesses, that when three swords were brought to be carried in 
the procession, as emblematical of his three kingdoms, the king 
said there was one yet wanting. The nobles inquiring what it 
was, he answered, The bible, adding, " That book is the sword 
of the Spirit, and to be preferred before these swords. That 
ought in all right to govern us, who ui^e them for the people's 
safety by God's appointment. Without that sword we are 
nothing, we can do nothing, we have no power. From that wc 
are what we are this day. From tliat we receive whatsoever it 
is that wo at present do assume. lie that rules without it, is 
not to be called God's minister, or a king. Under that we ought 
to live, to fight, to govern the people, and to perform all our 
affairs. From tliat alone we obtain all jx)wer, virtue, grace, 
salvation, and whatsoever we have of divine strength." When 
the pious young king had thus expressed himself, he commanded 
the bible to be brought with the greatest reverence, and carried 
before him. 

His affection for Cranmer, and his pious feelings, appear from 
the following letter written by him to the archbishop, origuially 
in Latin. 

" Revered godfather, although I am but a child, yet I am not 
unmindful of the services and the kindnesses you daily perform 
and manifest towards me. I have not forgotten your kind letters 
delivered to me on St. Peter's eve. I was unwilling to answer 
them until now, not from neglect or forgetfulness, but that, as I 



The Progress of the Reformation, 7 

^ dail^ meditated on them, and committed their contents faithfully 
to memory, at length having well considered them I might reply 
the more wisely. I do indeed embrace and venerate the truly 
paternal affection towards me which is expressed in them — may 
your life be prolonged for many years, and may you continue to 
be a respected father to me by your godly and wholesome coun- 
sels. For I consider that godliness is to be desired and em- 
braced by me above all things, since St. Paul has said, God- 
liness is profitable to all things." 

Cranmer's reply is as follows : it was also written in Latin. 

" My beloved son in Christ — I am as much concerned for 
your welfare as my own ; therefore when I learn that you are 
safe and well, I feel myself to be so also. My absence cannot 
be so unpleasant to you, as your letters are pleasing to me. 
They show that you possess a disposition worthy of your rank, 
and a preceptor suitable for such a disposition. From your let- 
ters I perceive that you so cultivate learning that heavenly 
truths are not among the things you least care for, and whoso 
careth for those things, shall not be overcome by any cares. 
Go on therefore, in the way upon which you have entered, and 
adorn your native land, that the light of virtue which I behold 
in you may hereafter enlighten all your England," &c. 

His tutor (probably Dr. Cox) says in a letter to the arch- 
bishop, " Your godson is merry and in health, and of such to- 
wardness in learning, godliness, gentleness, and all honest quali- 
ties, that both you and I, and all in this realm, ought to think 
him to be, and take him for, a singular gift sent of God," &c. 

The education of Edward VI. inspired the protestants with 
great hopes of the progress of the truth, but they were not 
wholly devoid of apprehensions respecting the influence of the 
papists at court. Bale says, " Many things I conclude concern- 
ing prince Edward, whom I doubt not but the Lord hath sent 
for the singular comfort of England. Not that I timorously de- 
fine any thing to come concerning him ; considering it only in 
the Lord's power. But I desire of the same Lord to preserve 
his bringing up from the contagious drinks of those false phy- 
sicians. And this is to be prayed for of all men." That many 
such prayers were offered by the protestants -there can be no 
doubt; the frequent references to the youthful monarch by 
Latimer and other reformers, show the pleasure mixed with 
anxiety, with which they regarded his advance in life. Latimer, 
in his sermon on the plough, notices how the papists "whispered 
the king in his ear," alluding no doubt particularly to the crafty 
Gardiner, who also laboured earnestly to persuade the protector 
and the council to leave all matters concerning religion in their 
present state, during the king's minority. 

Happily for England, the intrigues of Gardiner were not suc- 
cessful. The reformation advanced steadily from the commence- 
ment of the reign of Edward VL That it proceeded not to the 



8 King Edward VL — Life. 

full extent which might have been desirable, is accounted for by 
the peculiar state of parties in the English court at that time; 
also by the political situation of the country with regard both 
to foreign and domestic affairs. That much remained imper- 
fect may readily be admitted, but at no previous period of Eng- 
lish history, and not often at any subsequent time, was true re- 
ligion more generally prevalent through all ranks than in the 
reign of Edward VI. To enter into the details of the progress 
of the reformation would be impossible in the present brief 
account, which is rather intended to give some particulars of 
the private character of king Edward than of the public pro- 
ceedings of his reign.* 

The decision with which the protector and his counsellors 
proceeded with the w^ork of reformation from the first, is shown 
by a letter from John ab Ulmis to Bullinger, written at Oxford 
on Ascension day, 1546. He says, "England is adorned and 
enlightened by the word of God, and the number of the faithful 
increases largely every day. The mass, so dear to papists, be- 
gins to give way ; in many places it is already dismissed and 
condemned by divine authority, images are extirpated through- 
out the land, nor does the least spark remain which can afford 
hopes to the papists, or give them an occasion for confirming 
their errors respecting idols, or an opportunity of drawing aside 
the people from our Saviour. The marriage of the clergy is 
allowed and sanctioned by the royal approbation. Peter Martyr 
has demonstrated to general satisfaction, from the scriptures, 
and the writings of orthodox divines, that purgatory is only a 
cross to which we have been hitherto subjected. The same 
result has taken place respecting the eucharist, or the holy sup- 
per of the liOrd — that it is a commemoration of Christ, and a 
solemn sliowinof forth of his death, not a sacrifice." 

As early as 1548, though but eleven years of age, we find king 
Edward seriously attending to the duties of the kinijly office, by 
studying" the state and condition of his realm, with an earnest 
desire to promote its safety and peace. In acquiring this know- 
ledge, among other persons, he made considerable use of William 
Thomas already mentioned, whose natural abilities and attain- 
ments fitted him to impart information upon these subjects. 
Tiiomas planned a series of discourses to illustrate a number of 
principles or propositions which he stated. Of these he gave a 
list, desiring tlie king to point out such as he most wished to 
have discussed without delay. These "Common-places of 
State," as they were entitled, are enumerated by Strype. It is 
hardly necessary to say that they difi^er most widely from the 
principles which Machiavel prepared tor the instruction of an 
Italian prince, not long betbre that period. The following may 
1)0 mentioned : 10. Whether religion, beside the honour of God, 

* Some arcoiint of the procrr(>sH of tlir rrforination diirinu: thr rriirn of. 
kinii Kdward will he found in the life of Cranmcr, prefixed lo the writings 
of that lefonnpr in the pre^rnt coUectioii. 



1 



His attention to his royal duties, 9 

be not also the greatest stay of civil order 1 — 23. How much 
good ministers are to be rewarded and the evil punished 1 — 80. 
Whether princes ought to be contented with reasonable victories, 
and so to leave ] The discourses of Thomas, it is true, were 
founded chiefly upon human policy, but there are points in them 
which indicate a better spirit ; as for example, the religion of a 
prince whose amity is sought, is stated to be a matter for con- 
sideration. " A prince in battle," must also " examine whether 
his cause be lawful and just ; for in a just cause shall God assist 
him." In a discourse concerning his majesty's outward affairs, 
we find the following paragraph. "Albeit that our quarrel is 
in God, and God our quarrel, who never faileth them that trust 
in him ; yet forasmuch as wickedness reigneth in the midst of 
us, like as we should not mistrust the goodness of God, so ought 
we neither to neglect that policy which may help us to avoid 
the like captivity, that for wickedness happened to the elect 
people of Israel." Similar references to divine truths will not 
be found in political instructions at many periods of our history, 
and the reader will easily suppose that when such principles 
were recognised in private official documents, those of a public 
nature would not be deficient in their mention of Him who has 
declared, " By me kings reign." 

The attendance of Cheke upon his royal pupil was interrupted 
for a time, the cause of which does not distinctly appear ; but 
the fruits of his former instructions still remained. Among other 
interesting documents respecting king Edward, still in existence, 
is a journal, wherein are written down brief remarks concern- 
ing such affairs as from time to time came before him. Cheke 
is said to have advised him to keep a diary, observing, " That a 
dark and imperfect reflection upon affairs floating in the me- 
mory, was like words dispersed and insignificant; whereas a 
view of them in a book, was like the same words digested and 
disposed in good order, and so made significant." The king also 
kept in his own custody copies of all public records, and other 
matters which came under the consideration of the council. 

Cheke returned to his attendance upon the king, early in 
1550: he was in some danger of being involved in the pro- 
tector's disgrace, but escaped the storm, and stood afterwards 
more secure in the royal favour. He used his increasing interest 
at court to favour religious and learned men, foreigners as well 
as English. Ridley, as we shall hereafter see, called him, " one 
of Christ's special advocates, and one of his principal proctors." 
Ascham also urged upon him the opportunity which he enjoyed, 
with Cecil and Cook, of favouring good matters relative either 
to religion or learning, and told him that they were expected to 
use these opportunities as they were able. Ascham's letters 
show that Cheke was not indifferent to these important subjects. 
The beneficial influence of Cheke also appeared from the kind 
reception given to Bucer, Fagius, and Martyr, when driven to 
England by the persecutions which followed the promulgation 



10 King Edxcard VI, — Life. 

of the Interim in Germany. A number of letters and other 
documents which still exist, show the advantages which resulted 
to the English reformation from the assistance of these refugees, 
under whose advice many improvements v^rere introduced into 
the revised service book. 

Cranmer as well as Cheke encouraged the resort of the 
foreign protestants to England. On the decease of Bucer, appli- 
cation was made to Melancthon to supply his place ; the king's 
death, however, intervened before a linal arrangement was 
effected. Even foreigners who did not visit England were fully 
aware of the value of this pious king, as appears from many 
passages in their writings. Bullinger, in particular, addressed 
him in the preface to a decade of his sermons, in a manner 
which at once showed his own faithfulness, and his opinion of 
the Christian principles of the monarch. He urged him, " To 
hold it as an undoubted truth that true prosperity was to be ob- 
tained by him no other ways, than by submitting himself and 
his whole kingdom to Christ, the highest Prince, and by fram- 
ing all matters of religion and justice throughout his dominions 
according to the rule of God's word ; not stirring one inch from 
that rule; propagating the kingdom of Christ, and trampling 
upon that of antichrist, as he had so happily begun." In an- 
other dedication he urges the king to proceed w^ith firmness, 
and in the fear of God, not imitating the politic courses then 
adopted in Germany. The foreign protestants were anxious to 
engage the co-operation of Edward, and offered to wave some 
minor points of discipline if a general union could be effected. 
In order to counteract this, the romanists sent emissaries who pre- 
tended to be opposed to popery, while they were secretly sup- 
ported by Gardiner in their attempts to excite discord in England. 

The king was solicitous for the welfare and comfort of these 
learned ref\igees, who were a good deal inconvenienced by some 
manners and customs of England. Hearing that Bucer had 
suffered in health for the wanf of astove (or heated room) which 
he had been accustomed to in Germany, he sent him twenty 
pounds to defray the expense of constructing one previously to 
the next winter. Bucer in return wrote a book as a new year's 
gifl for the king. It was entitled, " Concerning the kingdom 
of Christ." A summary of the contents is given by Burnet. It 
contained miich advice on the subject of reformation, and pro- 
bably occasioned a general discourse on that subject, which the 
king wrote ah^ut the year 1551. Bucer and his countrymen 
were also a good deal annoyed by the papists, who still abounded 
in the \miversities. The king's esteem for these exiles further 
appeared by his desire to retain Peter Martyr when the city of 
Strasburg requested him to return to them. Afler Bucer's de- 
cease, kind attention was shown to the interests of his widow. 
The persecutions consequent u|X)n the Interim, which had driven 
Bucer and his associates from their own countries, excited much 
sympathy among English protestants. There also was ground 



Troubles in England. 1 1 

for apprehensions of the revival of popery at home. Under these 
circumstances, to the petition in the liturgy, " Give peace in our 
time," was added the response, " Because there is none other 
that fighteth for us but thou, O Lord." 

The political events of the reign of Edward VI. need only to 
be noticed very briefly in this sketch. The intrigues of the papists, 
combined with the popular feelings, which were excited by various 
recent changes affecting the state of society in England, led to 
commotions in several districts during the year 1549, particularly 
in Norfolk, Cornwall, and Devonshire. These were suppressed 
with considerable difficulty.* The duke of Somerset, though 
earnest for the doctrines as well as the outward advantages of 
the reformation, weakened his influence as lord protector, by 
various proceedings calculated to render him unpopular. His 
authority was also assailed by political rivals. One of these, his 
own brother, the lord aduiiral, a very unworthy character, endea- 
voured to supplant the protector with the king, by secretly sup- 
plying the latter with money, flattering his youthful vanity, and 
endeavouring to excite his evil passions. The political intrigues 
of the admiral at length called for severe measures, and he was 
condemned and executed as a traitor, in 1549. Before the close 
of that year, the protector himself was displaced from his office 
and imprisoned, chiefly by the intrigues of the earl of Warwick, 
afl:erwards the duke of Northumberland, who succeeded to the 
direction of public affairs, and outwardly adopted the measures of 
reformp.tion pursued by Somerset, though with more worldly 
views. Somerset was pardoned, and released from confinement in 
the following year, but again engaging in the intrigues of those 
turbulent times, he was condemned and executed in January, 1552. 
The political changes in those days were seldom unattended with 
bloodshed, and usually were followed by numerous executions. 

We resume the personal history of king Edward. The king, 
now about thirteen years of age, continued his studies. We 
find him at this time reading Aristotle's Ethics; the philoso- 
phical works of Cicero he had previously read. Both Greek 
and Latin were now become familiar to him. Nor was he less 
occupied in theological studies. The active part taken by Cheke 
in some of the public disputations w^ith the romanists, is a suffi- 
cient proof that his pupil was interested in those subjects. In 
a letter to Sturmius, dated December, 1550, Ascham, speaking 
of the king, says, " that his nature equalled his fortune ; but his 
virtue, or to speak as a Christian, the manifold grace of God in 
him, exceeded both. He did to admiration outrun his age in his 
desires of the best learning, in his study of the truest religion, 
in his will, his judgment, and his constancy." The dowager 
queen of Scots, who visited the English court about the same 
time, said that she found more wisdom and solid judgment in 



* See Cranmer, p. 50. Becon, p. 209. 



12 King Edward Vl—Lifi. 

young king Edward, than she would have looked for in any 
three princes that were in Europe. 

His favourite companion was Barnaby Fitzpatrick, a young 
gentleman of Ireland, brought up with him from childhood. In 
1551, the youthful monarch sent his companion to Paris to attend 
the French court, that he might acquire knowledge which would 
be useful in future life. The anxiety Edward felt for his fa- 
vourite's best interests is shown in a letter to him, dated De- 
cember 20, 1551. It is as follows : " We have received your 
letters of the 8th of this present month, whereby we understand 
how you are well entertained, for which we are right glad, and 
also how you have been once to go on pilgrimage. For which 
cause we have thought good to advertise you, that hereafter, if 
any such chance happen, you shall desire leave to go to Mr. 
Pickering,* or to Paris for your business. And if that will not 
serve, declare to some man of estimation with whom you are best 
acquainted, that, as you are loth to offend the French king, be- 
cause you have been so favourably used, so with safe conscience 
you cannot do any such thing, being brought up with me, and 
bound to obey my laws ; also that you had commandment from 
me to the contrary. Yet if you are vehemently procured, you 
may go, as waiting on the king, not as intending to the abuse, 
nor willingly seeing the ceremonies, and so you look not on the 
mass. But in the mean season, regard the scripture, or some good 
book, and give no reverence to the mass at all. Furthermore re- 
member, when you may conveniently be absent from the court, 
to tarry with sir William Pickering, to be instructed by him how 
to use yourself." After some further directions as to his conduct, 
the king tells him not to forget his learning, " chiefly reading of 
the scriptures." Fuller observes upon this and other letters of 
the king to Fitzpatrick, that familar epistles communicate truth 
to posterity, presenting history unto us with a true face of things, 
though not in so fine a dress as other kinds of writings. Aschani, 
in one of his letters to Stnrmius, speaks of the impression which 
must have been made in France by the duke of Suffolk and the 
other noble youths who had been educated with the king, and 
who had visited that country. He also mentions the abilities 
and acquirements of the princess Elizabeth in the highest terms. 

Al)out this period, a learned Italian, named Cardan, visited 
England on his return from Scotland to the continent. He had 
some interviews with the king, and has left the following testi- 
mony respecting the youthful monarch. "All the graces were 
combined in him. He possessed the knowledge of many lan- 
g!iages while yet a child. In addition to English, his native 
tongue, he was well acquainted both with Latin and French, nor 
was he ignorant of the Greek, Italian, and Spanish, and perhaps 
of more. Nor was he ignorant of logic, of the principles of 
natural philosophy, or of music : he played well upon the lute. A 

* The English ambassador. 



Fitzpatricic — Cardan. 13 

beautiful specimen of mortality ; his seriousness manifested royal 
majesty; his disposition was suitable to his exalted rank. In 
sum, that child was so educated, possessed such abilities, and 
caused such expectations, that he appeared a miracle. This is 
not said as mere rhetorical expressions, nor does it exceed the 
truth, but in fact falls short of it." Cardan adds, " He was a 
marvellous boy ; he had learned seven languages, as I was told. 
With his own, French, and Latin, he was thoroughly acquainted." 
He also relates a conversation he had with Edward, in which 
the latter showed that he was not to be satisfied with the imper- 
fect statements then made on astronomical subjects. 

The king's continued attention to matters of state is described 
by Fox, who relates that he was as well informed with respect to 
his affairs beyond sea, as those who were personally concerned in 
the negotiations. Also, that in the reception of ambassadors he 
would give answers to every part of their orations, to the great 
wonder of those that heard him, doing that in his tender years, 
by himself, which many princes at their mature age are seldom 
wont to do but by others. He was very anxious for the due ad- 
ministration of justice, arranging such hours and times as he 
considered would best forward the despatch of poor men's causes, 
without long delays and attendance. His attention to economy 
is manifest from many documents ; it did not arise from a sordid 
desire of accumulation, but from a wish to spare his subjects as 
much as possible, and at the same time to extricate himself from 
a heavy load of debt which consumed his pecuniary resources. 

He took great pleasure in active exercises, particularly riding, 
leaping, and shooting with the long-bow, as appears from his 
own journal, as well as the records of others. 

The reign of Edward VI. furnishes the rare instance of a 
prince who could bear to hear truths faithfully told, and who lis- 
tened to preachers that did not hesitate to speak to him with sin- 
cerity and truth. Fox says, " Few sermons or none in his court, 
especially in the lord protector's time, but he would be at them." 
Again, *' Never was he present at any such discourses but he 
would take notes of them with his own hand." Latimer's ser- 
mons supply several instances of bold, uncompromising fidelity ; 
he preached at court during several lent seasons in succession. 
In a discourse preached by Lever in 1550, we find equal faith- 
fulness. It appears that there were some about the court who 
endeavoured to turn the king from his laudable studies and pur- 
suits to the usual light and frivolous pastimes of courts ; this 
indeed is plainly shown by his own journal. Lever boldly ad- 
verted to the subject in the following terms: 

" It is not unlike, but if your majesty, with your council, speak 
unto your nobles for provision now to be made for the poor people, 
ye shall find some, that setting afore your eyes the hardness of 
the matter, the tenderness of your years, and the wonderful 
charges that should be requisite, will move and counsel you to 

EDWARD VI. 8 



w 



14 King Edward VI. — Life. 

quiet yourself, to take your ease, yea, to take your pastime, in 
hawking, hunting, and gaming." x\nd then turning his speech 
to such a one, he thus accosted him, " Thou hast no taste nor 
savour how delicious God is unto a pure conscience in godly 
exercise of good works. But all that thou regardest and feelest 
is voluptuous pleasures in worldly vanities; and therefore thou 
dost not perceive, how that they which be endowed with a special 
grace of God, may find more pleasure and pastime in godly gover- 
nance, to keep together and save simple men, than in hawkingand 
hunting, to chase and kill wild beasts. Yea, a godly king shall find 
more pleasure in casting lots for Jonah, to try out offenders which 
trouble the ship of this commonwealth, than in casting dice at 
hazard, to allow and maintain by his example such things as 
should not be suffered in a commonwealth. Yea, surely a good 
king shall take far more delight in edifying with comfort, and 
decking with good order, the congregation of his people, the 
church and house of God, the heavenly city of Jerusalem, than 
in building such houses as seem gay and gorgeous, and are indeed 
but vile earth, stones, timber, and clay. Such like answer ought 
your majesty and all noblemen to make, if ye find any of your 
counsellors more carnal than spiritual, more worldly than godly." 
Knox also preached with equal faithfulness in 1552, shortly 
before the removal of the court tirom Westminster, boldly reprov- 
ing the ill-conduct of the duke of Northumberland and the mar- 
quess of Winchester, even to their faces, as he states in his Faith- 
ful Admonition. Instead of incurring the royal displeasure by 
this conduct, a living in the city of London was otfered him ; 
he declined it from scruples respecting conformity, but he was 
still retained as one of the six itinerating preachers appointed 
by the king. Latimer was too aged and infirm to undertake the 
regular discharge of public duties; but we find him dwelling 
with archbishop Cranmcr, and as a gift of twenty pounds, then 
a considerable sum, was ordered for him by the king at an early 
part of his reign, we may be assured that a suitable provision 
was continued to him. 

Strype has given a minute and painful delineation of vices com- 
mon at that period. It niust be remembered thoy arose from 
principles implanted in the days of popery. The tares which had 
been plentifiiliy sown now were apparent. To these evils the 
reformers continually refer with niuch sorrow; they doubtless 
tended to brinsj down divine displeasure upon the land. The 
proriigate conduct of many among the nobility, even of some 
who professedly were attached to the reformation, shows most 
clearly the effects of divine grace, which alone enabled this pious 
monarch and others to resist the contagion of evil example. 

Some good, however, could be said of the English nobility. 
Asclmm, waiting to Sturmius, says that the nobles of England 
never were more attached to learning. He adds, " Our illustrious 
king excels those of his own age, and even passes belief in 
understanding, industry, perseverance, and erudition. I do not 



Faithfulness of the Protestant preachers, 15 

learn this from the report of others, but from my own personal 
knowledge — and to witness it has afforded me much pleasure. 
I can say that the virtues appear to have taken up their abode 
in him." In reference to his listening to good counsels, Cheke, 
in a letter to the duke of Somerset, says, " Wherefore, as his 
majesty hath always learned, so I trust he laboureth daily to avoid 
the ground of all error, that self-pleasing which the Greeks do 
call Fhilautia ; when a man delighteth in his own reason and 
despiseth other men's counsel, and thinketh no man's foresight to 
be so good as his, nor any man's judgment compared to his own." 

Considerable anxiety prevailed respecting a suitable matrimo- 
nial alliance for the king. A union with Mary, the young queen 
of Scotland, had originally been designed. After this was re- 
linquished, some progress was made in a treaty with the royal 
family of France — the French king at that time was in some 
respects a favourer of the reformation ; but the English protest- 
ants in general were much against a foreign alliance. Latimer 
spoke with his accustomed plainness from the pulpit, advising 
the king " to choose one that is of God, that is, of the household 
of faith ; and such a one as the king can find in his heart to love, 
and lead his life in pure and chaste espousage with. Let him 
choose a wife that fears God. Let him not choose a proud wan- 
ton ; one full only of rich treasures and worldly pomp." Besides 
the proposed marriage with a French princess, which at one 
period was in a considerable degree of forwardness, alliances 
were at other times proposed with a daughter of the duke of 
Somerset, and with the lady Jane Grey. John ab Ulmis, writing 
to Bullinger, in June, 1551, respecting lady Jane, says, " A re- 
port becomes common, and is current among the nobility, that 
the king is to espouse this illustrious young female. If that 
should come to pass, how happy the union ! and how beneficial 
to the church may we expect it to prove !" 

In 1552, his beloved tutor was a.fiiicted with the sweating 
sickness, a contagious disease which carried off considerable 
numbers. The king was anxious for Cheke's recovery. He 
sought it by earnest prayer. When told by the physicians that 
they despaired of his tutor's recovery, he replied, "No, Cheke 
will not die this time, I begged his life this morning in my 
prayer, and obtained it." Nor was this confident expectation 
disappointed. The recovery of Cheke was regarded by the pious 
reformers as a national mercy. They knew not the darker hour 
which approached, both with respect to the tutor and his royal 
pupil. 

In the year 1552, the king was attacked by the measles and 
the small-pox. From the effects of these maladies he never re- 
covered, though in a letter to Fitzpatrick he speaks of himself 
as fully restored to health. In April that year, he removed to 
Greenwich for the change of air, and continued to reside there 



16 King Edward VI. — Life, 

the short remainder of his life, with the exception of a progress 
in the summer. During the ensuing winter he was afflicted 
with a cough, and symptoms of consumption appeared : but he 
was not less intent upon the welfare of his kingdom as to mat- 
ters connected with religion. We find, early in 1553, a cate- 
chism set forth by the royal authority, which is generally known 
as "King Edward's Catechism." This valuable summary of 
the doctrines of the reformation is generally supposed to have 
been the work of dean Nowell, who enlarged it alter the ac- 
cession of queen Elizabeth ; it will be found in the present 
collection. The king was earnest to procure uniformity as to 
doctrine, and one of his latest memorandums connected with the 
public concerns of religion has distinct reference to this point. 
With this view he had articles of religion prepared, which are 
very similar to the thirty-nine articles, set forth in the reign of 
queen Elizabeth. At that period the principle of full toleration 
in matters of religion was not understood or recognised even by 
protestants. But an important step towards religious liberty 
may be here remarked ; although a declaration of assent to these 
articles was required of all who were public teachers in the 
church, the royal command to this effect did not direct any com- 
pulsory measures to enforce subscription, nor any severe proceed- 
ings, unless the articles were openly withstood or gainsaid, in 
which case the council were to be informed, that such further 
order might be taken as appeared requisite. Upon this principle 
the king seems to have proceeded with regard to his sister the 
princess Mary, as though he went so far as to prevent the per- 
formance of the mass at her court, he records in his journal that 
upon her answering that her soul was God's, and her faith she 
would not change, nor dissemble her opinion with contrary 
doings ; it was told her that " he constrained not her faith, but 
willed her not as a king to rule, but as a subject to obey ; and 
that her example might breed too much inconvenience." How 
different were Mary's proceedings towards her sister Elizabeth 
when she succeeded to tl^e throne ! The alternate obstinacy 
and compliances of Mary in her correspondence with her father 
•md brother on tiiis subject, appear from her letters yet extant, 
K(jme of which evince mental reservation worthy of the followers 
of Loyola ; doubtless they were written imder the counsel of 
her spiritual advisers. These discussions with his sister evi- 
dently were injurious to the king's health. 

The king's illness gave rise to ambitious projects on the part 
of the bold and unprincipled duke of Northumberland. He 
grasped at the succession to the crown, and resolved to secure it> 
if |X)ssible, to his own family. His designs were furthered by the 
king's sincere attachment to the truth, which made him deeply 
apprehensive of tiie consequences, if a bigoted papist like his 
sister Mary should succeed to the throne. He tlicrefore listened 
to a plan suggested by Northumberland, whereby both the king's 



His last illness — Plans of Northumberland. 17 

sisters should be passed by as illegitimate, on the ground of the 
marriages of their mothers having been declared void, and by 
passing over other branches who had a nearer right to the 
throne, the succession should be settled upon the lady Jane Grey, 
who, as Northumberland had arranged, was to marry one of his 
sons, the lord Guildford Dudley. Her mother, lady Frances 
Brandon, duchess of Suffolk, was grandaughter of Henry VH. 

As the spring of 1558 advanced, reports of the king's death 
were frequent ; the anxiety of the nation at large appears from 
many passages in the writings of the reformers. Feeling his 
strength decline, Edward became increasingly anxious to secure 
a protestant successor. He drev/ up a paper with his own hand, 
directing the order of succession to the throne, by which the 
crown devolved upon the lady Jane Grey. An instrument was 
then prepared by which the principal counsellors declared their 
assent to this settlement. The judges hesitated for some time, 
but, with one exception, were finally induced to consent, North- 
umberland's conduct was such as to make them apprehensive 
of personal violence. He urged this measure forward ; arch- 
bishop Cranmer opposed it, and argued much with the king 
ao^ainst such a proceeding, in the presence of two of the nobility. 
He also desired to have a private conference with Edward upon 
the subject, but this was not allowed, and the duke of North- 
umberland told him at the council board, that " it became him 
not to speak to the king as he had done." Cranmer for some 
time refused to be a party to this instrument, and urged much 
in behalf of the lady Mary's right. He was silenced, and told 
that the judges and king's counsel learned in the law were of 
opinion the alteration could lawfully be made. Cranmer then ab- 
sented himself from the council, and still refused to sign till the 
king personally entreated him not to stand out. At length his 
affection for his royal master, and the authority of the principal 
law officers prevailed ; he reluctantly added his signature. Only 
one of the judges, justice Hales, refused his assent; but this 
did not save him from being an object of persecution and suffer- 
ing in the ensuing reign. The regular instrument, signed by 
the king and his counsellors, bears date June 21. 

Another public document completed by Edward at this time, 
excites more pleasing reflections. At the commencement of his 
last sickness, bishop Ridley preached before him, and said much 
upon the duty of all persons to be charitable according to their 
ability, especially those who were of high rank. After this ser- 
mon, the king sent for the bishop, and commanded him to sit 
down, and be covered. He then went over the principal argu- 
ments mentioned in the sermon, desiring Ridley, that as he had 
shown what was his duty, he would now show in what manner he 
should perform it. Ridley was affected, even to tears, at this pleas- 
ing conduct of the king, and asked leave to consult with the mayor 
and aldermen of London upon the subject. Edward approved of 
this, and desired that they would consider tiie best manner of re- 



18 King Edward VL — Life. 

lieving the poor. They did so ; and Ridley returned in a few days 
with a plan, dividing the poor into three parts ; the poor hy impo- 
tency, the poor hy casualty, and the thrifllesspoor; again subdivid- 
ing them into nine classes. After this, the king ordered the Grey 
Friars monastery, with the lands belonging to it, to be endowed as 
a school, (now Christ's Hospital ;) St. Bartholomew's for sick and 
maimed persons ; Bridewell and Bethlehem, for idle, dissolute 
characters, and the msane ; provision also was made for the relief 
of poor housekeepers. He hastened the appropriation of these 
endowments to tlie laudable purposes just mentioned ; and on 
gigning the charters, upon the 26th of June, 1553, when he was 
so weak as scarcely to be able to hold the pen, he thanked God 
for sparing his life until he had executed his design. The reader 
will recollect that all these noble foundations have continued to 
the present time, as well as several free schools founded by him. 
The above is the account given respecting the origin of these 
noble foundations, by bishop Ridley himself to Grafton the his- 
torian. A letter from bishop Ridley to secretary Cecil, contains 
some further information respecting one of these establishments. 
He writes thus on the 29th of May : "Good Mr. Cecil, I must 
be suitor to you, in our Master Christ's cause : I beseech you be 
good unto him. The matter is this, alas, he liath been too long 
abroad, as you do know, without lodging, in the streets of Lon- 
don, both hungry, naked, and cold. Now, thanks be to almiglity 
God, the citizens are willing to refresh him, and to greet him 
with both meat, drink, clothing, and firing; but alas, sir, they 
lack lodging for him, for in some one house I dare say they are 
fain to lodge three families under one roof Sir, there is a wide, 
large, empty house of the king's majesty's, called Bridewell, 
that would wonderftilly well serve to lodge Christ in, if he might 
find such good friends in the court to procure in his cause. 
Surely I have such a good opinion in tlie king's majesty, that if 
Christ had such faithful and trusty friends that would heartily 
speak for him, he should undoubtedly succeed at the king's ma- 
jesty's hands. Sir, I have promised my brethren the citizens to 
move you in this matter, because I do take you for one that 
feareth God, and would that Christ should be no more abroad in 
the streets. There is a rumour that one goeth about to buy that 
Ijouse of his majesty to pull it down. If there beany such tiling, 
for God's sake speak you in our Master's name. I liave written 
to M. Gates more at large in this matt(T, I join you with him 
and all that love and look for Christ's fmal benediction at the 
latter day. If M. Chc^kc is almost recovered, God he blessed. 
Were he amongst you I would surely make him in this business 
one of Christ's s])ecial advocates, or rather one of his principal 
protectors, and surely I would not be sent away. And thus I 
wish you in Christ, and well to fare."* 

* Ridley's anxiety to promote these good works, appears from a ser- 
mon of Lever's, preached in 1550. He sn\>^ 'lint, 'a mnultn (jf poor, 



His last moments. 19 

The king now evidently drew near his end. When there ap- 
peared no longer to be hopes of life, the physicians were dis- 
missed, and some reaiedies suggested by a female empiric were 
tried, but without success. The physicians were recalled in a 
few days, but the royal sufferer rapidly declmed, and on the 6th 
of July breathed his last, "flis manner of death," as the council 
reported to sir Thomas Hoby, " was such toward God, as assureth 
us that his soul is in place of eternal rest." 

Fox relates, " About three hours before his death, this godly 
child, his eyes being closed, speaking to himself, and thinking 
that none heard him, made this prayer w^hich follows : 

" ' Lord God, deliver me out of this miserable and wretched 
life, and take me among thy chosen. Howbeit, not my will, but 
thy will be done. Lord, I commit my spirit to thee. O Lord ! 
thou knowest how happy it were for me to be with thee, yet for 
thy chosen's sake send me life and health, that I may truly serve 
thee. O my Lord God bless thy people, and save thine inherit- 
ance. O Lord God, save thy chosen people of England. O my 
Lord God, defend this realm from papistry, and maintain the true 
religion, that I and my people may praise thy holy name, for thy 
Son Jesus Christ's sake.' 

" Then turned he his face, and seeing who was by him, said 
unto them, * Are ye so nigh ? I thought ye had been further off.' 
Then Dr. Owen, one of his physicians, who gave this account, 
to satisfy him, said, ' We heard you speak to yourself, but what 
you said we know not.' He then, (after his fashion) smilingly said, 

* I was praying to God.' The last words of his pangs were these : 

* I am faint. Lord, have mercy upon me, and take my spirit.' 
And thus he yielded up the ghost." 

The untimely decease of Edward, and the political circum- 
stances of that day, caused reports to be spread of liis having 
fallen a victim to poison. For this there was no real foundation. 
The opinions which then prevailed are stated in a letter of 
Terentian, an Italian, who had accompanied Peter Martyr to 
England, (Ep. Helv. Reform. Ixxvi.) He Svays, *' On the 6th of 
July died that holy Josiah, our earthly hope; of consumption as 
the physicians state, of poison as is said, for the papists spread 
this report that they may heap every sort of odium upon Northum- 
berland, and, to say the truth, there are considerable grounds for 
suspicion ; but if I may say what I think, T would rather believe 
the papists themselves to be the authors of such wickedness, for 
they manifest no appearance of sorrow, and no inquiry is made 
respecting such a crime." 

Strype says, " His funeral was solemnized at Westminster, 

feeble, halt, blind, lame, sickly, with idle vagabonds and dissembling 
caitifts mixed amon^ them, lay, and crept begging in the miry streets oi 
London and Westminster," — adding, "but now I trust that a good over- 
seer, a godly bishop I mean, will see that they in these two cities shall 
have their need relieved and faults corrected, tathe good ensample of all 
other towns and cities." 



20 King Edward VL—Life. 

Aug. 8, 1553. Whereat were expressed, by all sorts of people, 
such signs of sorrow for his death, by weepings and lamentations, 
as the like was scarce ever seen or heard upon the like occasion." 

Burnet relates, " Day, bishop of Chichester, preached the 
funeral sermon tor king Edward. It was intended by queen 
Mary that all the burial rites should have been according to the 
old forms that were before the reformation. But Cranmer op- 
posed this vigorously, and insisted upon it, that as the king him- 
self had been a zealous promoter of the reformation, so the Eng- 
lish service was then established by law. Upon this he stoutly 
Jiindered any other way of officiating, and himself performed all 
the offices of the burial ; to which he joined the solemnity of a 
communion. In these, it may be easily imagined, he did every 
thing with a very lively sorrow ; since as he had loved the king 
beyond expression, so he could not but look on his ffineral as the 
burial of the reformation, and in particular as a step to his own." 

Bale relating the above, remarks how much Edward had the 
welfare of his people at heart, and says that he had often observed 
him at public prayers when the words, O Lord save thy people, 
were repeated, joining most fervently with clasped hands and 
eyes lifted up to heaven. 

To enlarge upon the excellences of this our " British Josiah," 
would not be difficult, but it is unnecessary. Enough has been 
related to show, that although his rank and situation exposed 
him to many temptations, he was preserved from evil, and ever 
anxious for the discharge of his peculiar duties. But the most 
important feature in his character is, that he was a follower of the 
truth, " a saint of God," one of whom the world was not worthy. 

Many letters and other writings of Edward VI. have been pre- 
served. The greater part of these have been printed by Burnet 
and Strype. Though interesting as illustrations of his character, 
they are not desirable for the present collection. The treatise 
on the papal supremacy is a specimen of his productions; it is 
supposed to have been written by this prince at the age of 
twelve years. A sufficient memorial of Edward VI. will never 
be wanting so long as the protcstant faith is professed in England. 

Theoriginal of his journal is in the British Museum; it has been 
printed by Burnet, but there are very few observations of the king 
on the events he notes down. One of these notices refers to the 
execution of tlie unliappy Joan Bocher.* Another contains evidence 

* For some account of the undeserved sufTcrinpfa of this friendless and 
prrsrciitrd fc^malc, see life of Cranmer, p. 19. The entry respecting her 
in king Edward's journal does not notice the interference which the arch- 
bishop is said to have made on tiiis occasion. It is as follows: "May 2, 
l.'Sl*). Joan Bocher, otlierwise called Joan of Kent, was burned for hold- 
inil that ('lirist wn^ not incarnate of the viririn Mary; heine: condemned 
brforc, hut kejit in liopr of convnrsion ; and the IU)ih o\ April the bishop 
of f.ondon and the bishop of lOlv were to persuade her; but she with- 
stood them, and revilrd \\w preaclier that preaclud at her death." Deep 



His writings. 21 

of the deceitful course adopted by bishop Gardiner. "The duke 
of Somerset, with five others of the council, went to the bishop 
of Winchester, to whom he made this answer : ' I having de- 
liberately seen the Book of Common Prayer, although I would 
not have made it so myself, yet I find such things in it as satis- 
fieth my conscience, and therefore I will both execute it myself, 
and also see others my parishioners to do it.' " The journal con- 
tains various notices, which show the interest Edward took in 
the affairs of the protestants in Germany, and the anxiety caused 
by the designs of the Romanists respecting the princess Mary ; 
but, though valuable as an historical document, it contains very 
little relating to the internal progress of the reformation. The 
principal circumstances relative to the fall and execution of the 
duke of Somerset are mentioned, and the active endeavours of 
Northumberland to occupy the young king's attention by a suc- 
cession of amusements, while the death of his excellent uncle 
was urged forward, are very apparent. From memorandums 
written by the king still extant, it is evident that in allowing 
the proceedings against his uncle to go forward, he considered 
that he was sacrificing his personal regard and feelings for the 
due course of justice and the welfare of the kingdom. Hay ward 
describes him as often lamenting the unhappy situation in which 
the necessity for consenting to his uncle's death placed him. 

The extended circulation of the bible must ever be considered 
as one of the principal glories of king Edward's reign. The 
free use of the scriptures now was permitted to all ; and no less 
than thirty-four editions of the whole Bible, or of the New 
Testament, were printed during the six years Edward VI. was 
upon the throne, besides separate editions of detached parts, and 
innumerable other writings setting forth the truths of the gospel. 

Among the most valuable memorials of his reign, the first 
book of Homilies may be mentioned. These discourses have 
been so often printed, and are circulated in so many forms, that 
it is unnecessary to advert to them, further, or to include any 
portion of them in the present collection. Nowell's Catechism, 
in its original form, supplies an important summary of the doc- 
trines of the reformation, as set forth at this period, and as such 
it is given in this work. A selection of prayers from the Pri- 
mer authorized by king Edward, also shows the principles of 
truth then taught in our land. The serious reader cannot peruse 
them without pleasure and profit, and they may without impro- 
priety be considered as productions of the youthful monarch, 
though not immediately from his pen. 

indeed must have been the dreadful prejudices that authorized religious 
persecution, when king Edward could thus record such an event. The 
preacher was a dissembling papist, Dr. Scory ; the sufferer told him to go 
and read the scriptures, and we cannot be surprised that she expressed 
herself in strong terms. 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF 

aUEEN CATHERINE PARR, 

The last Consort of Henry VIII. 

Catherine Parr, the sixth and surviving queen of king Henry 
VIIL, was born in Westmoreland. She was the daughter of 
sir Thomas Parr, of Kendal,* and married first to Edward Burgh, 
secondly to John Neville, lord Latimer. After his decease, she 
became the wife of Henry, in July 1543. 

She was early instructed in literature; a plan frequently 
adopted with females of rank in the sixteenth century ; in Eng- 
land, it was promoted by the example of the monarch in the 
education of his daughters. Udal writes thus in a dedicatory 
epistle to queen Catherine herself. " Now, in this gracious and 
blissful time of knowledge, in which it hath pleased God al- 
mighty to reveal and show abroad the light of his most holy 
gospel, what a number is there of noble women, especially here 
in this realm of England ; yea, and how many in the years of 
tender virginity, not only as well seen, and as familiarly traded 
in the Latin and Greek tongues, as in their own mother lan- 
guage ; but also in all kinds of literature and arts, made exact, 
studied, and exercised, and in the holy scripture and theology 
so ripe, that they are able aptly, wisely, and with much grace, 
either to indite or to translate into the vulgar tongue, for the 
public instruction and edifying of the unlearned multitude ! 
Neither is it now a strange thing to hear gentlewomen, instead 
of most vain communication about the moon shining in the 
water, to use grave and substantial talk in Latin and Greek, 
with their husbands, of godly matters. It is now no news in 
England, for young damsels in noble houses, and in the courts 
of princes, instead of cards and other instruments of idle trifling, 
to have continually in their hands, either psalms, homilies, and 
other devout meditations, or else Paul's epistles, or some book 
of holy scripture matters ; and as familiarly to read or reason 
thereof, in Greek, Latin, French, or Italian, as in English. It 
is now a common thing to see young virgins so nursed and 
trained in the study of letters, that they willingly set all other 
vain pastimes at nought, for learning's sake. It is now no news 

* He left his two daughters £800 each, but in case their brother died, 
and they became co-heiresses of his estates, then the whole of the XI6OO 
was to be paid to the abbey of Clairvaux, to purchase copes and vestments 
for performing the Romish ceremonials. Such an arrangement gives 
some idea of the pomp of those services, when it is remembered that the 
sum is equal to more than ten times the amount at the present day. 

16* 173 



Queen Catherine Parr. — Life. 



I 



at all to see queens and ladies of most high state and progeny, 
instead of courtly dalliance, to embrace virtuous exercises of 
reading and writing, and with most earnest study, both early 
and late, to apply themselves to the acquiring of knowledge, as 
well in all other liberal arts and disciplmes, as also most espe- 
cially of God and his most holy word." 

Of the number thus described, was Catherine Parr, also lady 
Bacon and her sisters, the daughters of sir Anthony Cook, the 
princesses Mary and Elizabeth, lady Jane Grey, and many others. 
Nor were these acquirements to be found only amongst persons 
of quality. One instance at least is recorded of their being 
found in a tradesman's wife. From the monument of Elizabeth 
Lucar, daughter of one Paul Withipol, and wife of Emanuel 
Lucar, a merchant tailor of London, given by Stow in his Sur- 
vey, it appears that she wrote three hands very fairly, that she 
understood Latin, Spanish, and Italian, writing and speaking 
them with perfect utterance and readiness ; that she sung and 
played well upon the viol, lute, and virginals; besides this she 
was not deficient in accomplishments peculiar to her sex, being 
excellently skilled in all kinds of needlework. Her moral quali- 
ties \^ere also most praiseworthy, and above all, to use the simple 
expressions of her epitaph, " Reading the scriptures to judge 
light from dark, Directing her faith to Christ the only mark." 
She died in 1537, aged only twenty-seven. From various records 
of that day, it appears that the females who thus acquired learn- 
ing were not on that account negligent as to the domestic duties 
incumbent upon them as daughters, wives, and heads of families. 

An anecdote of Catherine Parr related by Strype, would, how- 
ever, indicate that in early life she did not very willingly enter 
into the domestic employments then usually attended to, even by 
females of rank. Some astrologer having cast her nativity, told 
her she was born to sit in the highest scat of imperial majesty, 
having all the eminent stars and planets in her house, which she 
took such notice of, that when her mother used sometimes to 
call her to work, she would say, "My hands are ordained to 
touch crowns and sceptres, not needles and spindles !" Upon 
the mischievous absurdity of such a prognostication it is unne- 
cessary to remark. Many other females must have been born 
under the same siderial aspect who never rose to a throne. 

We must not forget that, as is noticed by Udal, the learuingof 
that period ever had especial reference to scriptural knowleilgc, 
and tlie study of the doctrines of truth. Historians of infidel or 
latitudinarian principles have treated the literary acquirements 
of the higher ranks at that day as contemptible, or at best pe- 
dantic; but the (^hristian estimates thom more correctly. The 
writings of (jueen Catherine Parr alone, are sufficient to mani- 
fest tlie real value of those acquirements, and the subsequent 
part of this sketch will show the important services she was 
thereby enabled to render to the reformation. From her early 
youth slic studied the scriptures, although a considerable time 
174 



Her learning, — Erasmus's Paraphrase. 3 

elapsed, as appears from her own writings, before she was freed 
from the mental bondage of popery. 

When elevated to the throne, queen Catherine Parr was placed 
in a dangerous and arduous station. She did not hesitate openly 
to manifest her attachment to the doctrines of the gospel, and 
rendered all the services in her power to the reformers. Udal 
states that the translation of the paraphrases of Erasmus on the 
New Testament, a copy of which was ordered to be placed in 
every parish church in the kingdom, was executed by her means. 
Udal was then master of Eton school, the queen engaged him in 
this work, well knowing his ability to superintend and take part 
in the same. In 1545, previously to the work being printed, he 
wrote an epistle dedicatory to the queen, in which he mentions, 
that " at her exceeding great costs and charges, she had hired 
workmen to labour in the vineyard of Christ's gospel, and pro- 
cured the whole paraphrase of Erasmus upon all the New Testa- 
ment to be diligently translated into English, by several men 
whom she employed upon this work." He further said, that he 
trusted the king would not allow it to remain buried in silence, 
but would cause it to be set abroad in print, to the use that she 
had designed; "that is, to the commodity and benefit of good 
English people, now a long time sore thirsting and hungering 
after the sincere and plain knowledge of God's word." 

The translators of this paraphrase were for the most part per- 
sons of rank and ability ; some portion, Strype concludes, was 
the work of queen Catherine herself, the paraphrase on the gos- 
pel by St. John was begun by the princess Mary, but was finished 
by her chaplain, Dr. Malet, " she being cast into sickness partly 
by overmuch study in this work;" upon which it has been ob- 
served, that probably the translation of some Romish legendaries 
or rituals might have been more agreeable to her. ' It is likely, 
however, that she undertook this paraphrase desiring to please 
her father, who at that time was disposed to favour such works. 
\ letter written by the queen to the princess respecting this 
translation, shows the interest she took therein. 

The queen evinced considerable judgment in selecting this 
work of Erasmus to be put forth by authority. It was written 
by him in his best days, and very fully comprised the opinions 
of the best early divines on doctrinal subjects ; it also exposed 
the errors and superstitious abuses of popery, and being the work 
of Erasmus, carried with it an authority to all, except the most 
bigoted of the papists, which any production exclusively written 
by the English Reformers would not have possessed, even had 
there been time, which there was not, to prepare such a work ; 
while its passing through the hands of men well affected to 
gospel tRith, was an assurance to the protestants that its con- 
tents were not at variance with the scriptures — the paraphrase 
on the Revelation was not the work of Erasmus, but of Leo Jude. 
Queen Catherine also doubtless had reason to judge that this 
work was most likely to be acceptable to the king. 

175 



4 Queen Catherine Parr, — Life, 

The papists were not indifferent to the exertions of queen 
Catherine Parr in promoting the reformation. She had many 
around her at court of the same principles as herself, and early 
in the year 1546, when for a time bishop Gardiner, the duke of 
Norfolk, the lord chancellor Wriothesley, and other romanists 
had gained a portion of influence at court, that party made a 
vigorous effort for her destruction. To this persecution, Ann 
Askew fell a victim ; the narrow escape of the queen is best 
given in the words of Fox, which includes many interesting 
historical particulars. He says, 

" About the year 1546, after the king returned from Boulogne, 
he was informed that queen Catherine Parr, at that time his 
wife, was very much given to the reading and study of the holy 
scriptures; and that she for that purpose had retained divers 
well learned and godly persons, to instruct her thoroughly in the 
same, with whom she used to have private conference touching 
spiritual matters. Commonly, but especially in Lent, every day 
in the aflernoon, for the space of an hour, one of her chaplains 
made some collation to her and to her ladies, and gentlewomen 
of her chamber, or others that were disposed to hear ; in which 
sermons they oftimes touched such abuses as in the church then 
were rife. Which things as they were not secretly done, so 
neither were their preachhigs unknown unto the king. Whereof 
at the first, and for a great time, he seemed very well to like. 
Which made her the more bold, being indeed become very zeal- 
ous toward the gospel, and the professors thereof, frankly to de- 
bate with the king, touching religion, and therein flatly to dis- 
cover herself; oftentimes wishing, exhorting, and persuading 
the king, that as he had, to the glory of God and iiis eternal 
fame, begun a good and a gotlly work in banishing that mon- 
strous idol of Rome, so he would thoroughly perfect and finish 
the same, cleansing his church of England clean from the dregs 
thereof, wherein as yet remained great superstition. 

" And albeit the king grew towards his latter end very stern 
and opinionato, so that of few he could be content to be taught, 
but worst of all to be contended withal by argument; notwith- 
standing, toward her he refrained his accustomed manner, as 
appeared by great respects, either for the reverence of the 
cause, whereunto of himself he seemed well inclined, if some 
others could have ceased from seeking to pervert him, or else 
for the singular aflection which until a very small time before 
his death, he always bore unto her. P^or never liandmaid soui^ht 
with more careful diligence to please her mistress, than she did 
with all painful endeavour apply herself, by all virtuous means, 
in all things to please his humour. 

** Moreover, besides the virtues of the mind, she was endued 
with very rare gifts of nature, as singular beauty, favour, and 
comely personage, being things wherein the king was greatly 
delighted ; and so enjoyed for the king's favour, to the great like- 
lihood of the setting at large of the gospel within this realm at 
176 



Her earnest endeavours to promote the Reformation. 5 

that time, had not the malicious practice of certain enemies pro- 
fessed against the truth, which at that time also were very great, 
prevented the same, to the utter alienating of the king's min^ 
from religion, and almost to the extreme ruin of the queen and 
certain others with her, if God had not marvellously succoured 
her in that distress. 

" The king's majesty, as you have heard, misliked to be con- 
tended withal in any kind of argument. This humour of his, 
although not in smaller matters, yet in causes of religion as 
occasion served, the queen would not stick now and then to 
oppose in reverent terms and humble talk, entering w^th him 
into discourse, with sound reasons of scripture. The which the 
king was so well accustomed unto in those matters, that at her 
hands he took all in good part, or at the least never showed 
countenance of offence thereat ; which did not a little appal her 
adversaries to hear and see. During which time, perceiving 
her so thoroughly grounded in the king's favour, they durst not 
for tlieir lives" once open their lips unto the king in any respect 
to touch her, either in her presence, or behind her back: and so 
long she continued this her accustomed usage, not only of hear- 
ing private sermons, as is said, but also of her free conference 
with the king in matters of religion, without all peril, until at 
the last, by reason of his sore leg, the anguish whereof began 
more and more to increase, he waxed sickly, and therewithal 
froward, and difficult to be pleased. 

*' In the time of this his sickness, he had left his accustomed 
manner of coming and visiting of the queen : and therefore she, 
according as she understood him by such assured intelligence as 
she had about him, to be disposed to have her company, some- 
times being sent for, other sometimes of herself would come to 
visit him, either after dinner or after supper, as was most fit 
for her purpose. At which times she would not fail to use all 
occasions to move him, according to her manner, zealously to 
proceed in the reformation of the church. The sharpness of the 
disease had sharpened the king's accustomed patience, so that 
he began to show some tokens of misliking ; and contrary unto 
his manner, upon a day, breaking off that matter, he took oc- 
casion to enter into other talk, which somewhat amazed the 
queen. To whom, nothwuthstanding, in her presence, he gave 
neither evil word nor countenance, but knit up all arguments 
with gentle words and loving countenance ; and after other 
pleasant talk, she for that time took her leave of his majesty. 
Who after his manner, bidding her ^Farewell, sweet heart,' for 
that was his usual term to the queen, licensed her to depart. 

" At this visitation, the bishop of Winchester, Gardiner, w^as 
present, as also at the queen's taking her leave, and he had very 
well printed in his memory the king's sudden interrupting of 
the queen in her tale, and falling into other matter, and thought 
that if the iron were beaten whilst it was hot, and that the king's 
humour were holpen, such misliking might follow towards the 

177 



6 Queen Catherine Parr, — Life, 

queen, as might both overthrow her and all her endeavours ; and 
he only awaited some occasion to renew into the king's memory 
the former misliked argument. His expectation in that behalf 
did not fail ; for the king at that time showed himself no less 
prompt and ready to receive any information, than the bishop 
was maliciously bent to stir up the king's indignation against 
her. The king, immediately upon her departure from him, used 
these or like words ; ' A good hearing it is when women become 
such clerks ; and a thing much to my comfort, to come in mine 
old days to be taught by my wife !' 

" The bishop hearing this, seemed to mislike that the queen 
should so much forget herself, as to take upon her to stand in 
any argument with his majesty, whom he to his face extolled 
for his rare virtues, and specially for his learned judgment in 
matters of religion, above not only princes of that and other ages, 
but also above doctors professed in divinity; and said that it was 
an unseemly thing for any of his majesty's subjects to reason and 
argue with him so malapertly, and grievous to him for his part 
and other of his majesty's counsellors and servants, to hear the 
same ; and that they all, by proof, knew his wisdom to be such, 
that it was not needful for any to put him in mind of any such 
matters. He inferred, moreover, how dangerous and perilous a 
matter it is, and ever hath been, for a prince to suffer such in- 
solent words at his subjects' hands; who as they take boldness 
to contrary their sovereign in words, so want they no will, but 
only power and strength, to overthrow them in deeds. 

" Besides this, he said, that the religion by the queen so 
stiffly maintained, did not only disallow and dissolve the policy 
and politic government of princes, but also taught the people 
that all things ought to be in common, so that what colour soever 
they pretended, their opinions were indeed so odious, and for the 
prince's estate so perilous, that, saving the reverence they bare 
unto her for his majesty's sake, they durst be bold to alhrm that 
the greatest subject in this land, speaking those words that she 
did speak, and defending those arguments that she did defend, 
had with impartial justice, by law, deserved death. 

" Howbeit, for his part he would not, and durst not, without 
good warrant from his majesty, speak his knowledge in the 
queen's case, althouirh very apparent reasons made for him, and 
such as his dutiful affection towards his majesty, and the zeal and 
preservation of his estate, would scarcely give him leave to con- 
ceal, though the uttering thereof might, through her and her 
faction, be the utter destruction of him, and of such as indeed 
did chiefly tender the prince's safety, without his majesty would 
t^ke upon him to be their protector, and as it were their buckler. 
Which, if he would do, as in respect of his own safety he ought 
not to refuse, he, with others of his faithful counsellors, could 
within a short time disclose such treason, cloaked with this cloak 
of heresy, that his majesty should easily perceive, how perilous a 
matter it is to cherish a serpent within his own bosom. Howbeit, 
178 



The hinges displeasure at her regard to religion. 7 

he would not for his part willingly deal in the matter, both 
for reverent respect aforesaid, and also for fear lest the faction 
was grown already too great there, with the prince's safety to 
discover the same. And therewithal, with heavy countenance 
and whispering together with them of that sect there present, 
he held his peace. 

"These and such other kinds of Winchester's flattering 
phrases, marvellously whetted the king both to anger and dis- 
pleasure towards the queen, and also to be jealous and mistrust- 
ful of his own estate, for the assurance whereof princes use not 
to be scrupulous to do any thing. Thus then Winchester, with 
his flattering words seeking to Same the king's disposition after 
his own pleasure, so far crept into the king at that time, and 
with doubtful fears he with other his fellows so filled the king's 
mistrustful mind, that before they departed the place, the king, 
to see belike what they would do, had given commandment, with 
warrant, to certain of them for that purpose, to consult together 
about the drawing of certain articles against the queen, wherein 
her life might be touched ; which the king by their persuasions 
pretended to be fully resolved not to spare, provided there should 
be any rigour or colour of law to countenance the matter. With 
this commission they departed for that time from the king, resolved 
to put their pernicious practice to as mischievous an execution. 

" During the time of deliberation about this matter, they 
failed not to use all kind of policies, and mischievous practices, 
as well to suborn accusers, as otherwise to betray her, in seeking 
to understand what books, by law forbidden, she had in her closet. 
And the better to bring their purpose to pass, because they would 
not upon the sudden, but by means deal with her, they thought 
it best, at the first, to begin with some of those ladies whom 
they knew to be great with her, and of her blood. The chiefest 
whereof, as most of estimation, and privy to all her doings, were 
these : the lady Herbert, afterward countess of Pembroke, and 
sister to the queen, and chief of her privy chamber ; the lady 
Lane, beinof of her privy chamber, and also her cousin german; 
the lady Tyrwhit of her privy chamber, and, for her virtuous 
disposition, in very great favour and credit with her. 

" It was devised that these three above named, should first of 
all have been accused and brought to answer unto the six ar- 
ticles, and upon their apprehension in the court, their closet and 
coffers should have been searched, that somewhat might have 
been found, whereby the queen might be charged ; which being 
found, the queen herself presently should have been taken, and 
likewise carried by barge by night unto the Tower. This plat- 
form thus devised, the king was forthwith made privy unto the 
device by Winchester and Wriothesley, and his consent there- 
unto demanded. Who, belike to prove the bishop's malice, how 
far it would presume, like a wise politic prince, was contented 
to give his consent, and to allow of every circumstance, know- 
ing notwithstanding in the end what he would do. And thus the 

179 



8 Queen Catherine Parr, — Life. 

day, the time, and the place of these apprehensions aforesaid 
were appointed ; which device yet after was changed. 

" The king at that time lay at Whitehall, and used very sel- 
dom, being not well at ease, to stir out of his chamber or privy 
gallery ; and few of his council, but by especial commandment, 
resorted unto him, these only excepted ; who by reason of tliis 
practice, used oftener than of ordinary to repair unto him. This 
purpose was handled so secretly, that it grew now within few days 
of the time appointed for the execution of the matter, and the poor 
queen knew not nor suspected any thing at all ; and therefore 
used after her accustomed manner, when she came to visit the 
king, still to deal with him touching religion, as she did before. 

" The king all this while gave her leave to utter her mind at 
the full without contradiction; not upon any evil mind or mis- 
liking, to have her speedy despatch, but rather to try out the 
uttermost of Winchester's fetches. Thus, after her accustomed 
conference with the king, when she had taken her leave of him, 
the time and day of Winchester's final day approaching fast 
upon, it chanced that the king of himself, upon a certain night 
after her being with him, and her leave taken of him, in mis- 
liking her religion, did break the whole practice unto one of his 
physicians, either doctor Wendy, or else Owen, but rather Wendy 
as is supposed ; pretending unto him, as though he intended not 
any longer to be troubled with such a doctress as slie was, and 
also declaring what trouble was in working against her by cer- 
tain of her enemies, but yet charging him withal, upon peril of 
his life, not to utter it to any creature living ; and thereupon de- 
clared unto him the parties above named with all circumstances, 
and when and what the final resolution of the matter should be. 

"The queen all this while compassed about with enemies and 
persecutors, perceived nothing of all this, nor what was working 
against her, and what traps were laid for her by Winchester and 
his fellows ; so closely was the matter conceived. But see what 
the Lord God, who from his eternal throne of wisdom seeth and 
despatchcth all the inventions of Ahitophel, and comprohendeth 
how the wily beguile themselves, did for his poor handmaid, in 
rescuing her from the pit of ruin, whercinto she was ready to 
fall unawares. 

" For as the Lord would, so came it to pass, that the bill of 
articles drawn againt^t the queen, and subscribed with the king's 
own hand, falling from tlio bosom of one of the aforesaid coun- 
sellors, was found and taken up of some godly person, and brought 
immediately unto the queen. Who reading there the articles 
comprised airainst hor, and perceiving the king's own hand unto 
the same, for the suddnn fear thereof, fell instantly into a great 
melancholy and agony, ]>ewailing and taking on in such sort, as 
was lamentable to see, as certain of her ladies and gentlewomen 
yet alive, who were then present about her, can testify. 

** The king hearing what perplexity she was in, almost to the 
peril and danger of her life, sent his physicians unto her. Who 
180 



Her danger by the crafty devices of Gardiner. 9 

seeing what extremity she was in, did what they could for her 
recovery. Then Wendy, who knew the cause better than the 
other, and perceiving by her words what' the matter was, accord- 
ing to that the king before had told him ; for the comforting of 
her heavy mind, began to break with her in secret manner touch- 
ing the said articles devised against her, which he himself, he 
said, knew right well to be true ; although he stood in danger of 
liis life, if ever he were known to utter the same to any living 
creature. Nevertheless, partly for the safety of her life, and 
partly for the discharge of his own conscience, having remorse 
to consent to the shedding of innocent blood, he could not but 
give her warning of that mischief that hanged over her head, 
beseeching her most instantly to use all secrecy in that behalf, 
and exhorted her somewhat to frame and conform herself unto 
the king's mind, saying he did not doubt, but if she would so do, 
and show her humble submission unto him, she should find him 
gracious and favourable unto her. 

"It was not long after this, but the king hearing of the dan- 
gerous state wherein she yet still remained, came unto her him- 
self. Unto whom after that she had uttered her grief, fearing 
lest his majesty, she said, had taken displeasure with her, and 
had'utterly forsaken her; he like a loving husband, with sweet 
Bnd comfortable words, so refreshed and appeased her careful 
mind, that she upon the same began somewhat to recover, and 
so the king after he had tarried there about the space of an 
hour, departed. 

" After this, the queen remembering with herself the words 
that master Wendy had said unto her, devised how by some good 
opportunity she might repair to the king's presence. And so 
first commanding her ladies to convey away their books, which 
were against the law, the next night following, after supper, she, 
waited upon only by the lady Herbert, her sister, and the lady 
Lane, who carried the candle before her, went unto the king's 
bedchamber, whom she found sitting and talking with certain 
gentlemen of his chamber. Whom when the king did behold, 
very courteously he w^elcomed her, and breaking off* the talk, 
which before her coming he had with the gentlemen aforesaid, 
began of himself, contrary to his manner before accustomed, to 
enter into talk of religion, seeming, as it v/ere, desirous to be 
resolved by the queen of certain doubts which he propounded. 

" The queen perceiving to what purpose this talk did tend, 
let beino- unprovided in Vv4iat sort to behave herself towards the 
king, with such answers resolved his questions as the time and 
opportunity present did require, mildly and with a reverent 
countenance answering again after this manner. 

*' ' Your majesty, doth right well know, neither I myself am 
ignorant, what great imperfection and weakness by our first 
creation, is allotted unto us women, to be ordained and appointed 
as inferior and subject unto man as our head, from which head 
all our direction ought to proceed, and that as God made man to 

C iTHERINE PARR. 17 181 



W^ 



10 Queen Catherine Parr, — Life, 

his own shape and likeness, whereby he being endued with mcfi^ 
special gifts of perfection, might rather be stirred to the center- 
plation of heavenly things, and to the earnest endeavour to obev 
his commandments ; even so also made he woman of man, of 
whom and by whom she is to be governed, commanded, a» 
directed. Whose womanly weakness and natural imperfection, 
ought to be tolerated, aided, and borne withal, so that by hi^ 
wisdom such things as are lacking in her, ought to be supplied. 

" * Since therefore God hath appointed such a natural difierence 
between man and woman, and your majesty being so excellent 
in gifts and ornaments of wisdom, and I, a seely, poor woman, so 
much inferior in all respects of nature unto you ; how then 
comes it now to pass, that your majesty in such diffuse causes 
of religion, will seem to require my judgment] Which when 
I have uttered and said what I can, yet must I, and will I, refer 
my judgment in this and all other cases to your majesty's wisdom, 
as my only anchor, supreme head and governor here in earth 
next under God, to lean unto.' 

" * Not so, by St. Mary,' quoth the king ; * you are become a 
doctor, Kate, to instruct us, as we take it, and not to be in- 
structed, or directed by us.' 

*'*If your majesty take it so,' quoth the queen, *then hath 
your majesty very much mistaken me, who hath ever been of 
the opinion to think it very unseemly and preposterous for the 
woman to take upon her the office of an instructor or teacher to 
her lord and husband, but ratlier to learn of her husband, and to 
be taught by him. And where I have with your majesty's leave 
heretofore been bold to hold talk with your majesty, wherein 
sometimes in opinions there hatli seemed some difference, I have 
not done it so much to maintain opinion, as I did it rather to 
minister talk, not only to the end your majesty might with less 
grief pass over this painful time of your infirmity, being inten- 
tive to our talk, and hoping that your majesty should reap some 
case thereby ; but also that I, hearing your majesty's learned 
discourse, might receive to myself some profit thereof Wherein 
I assure your majesty I have not missed any part of ray desire in 
that bolialf, always referring myself in all such matters unto your 
majesty, as by ordinance of nature it is convenient for me to do.' 

"* And is it even so, sweet heart]' quoth the king. * And tended 
your arguments to no worse end ] Then perfect friends we are 
now aijrain, as ever at any time heretofore;' and kissing her, he 
ad<led this saying, that it did him more good at that time to 
hear those words of her own mouth, than if he had heard pre- 
sent news of a hundred thousand poimds in money fallen unto 
liim. And with great signs and tokens of marvellous joy and 
likinof, with promises and assurancos, never again in any sort 
more to mistake her, entering into other very peasant discourses 
with the queen and the lords, and gentlemen j^anding by, in the 
end, being very far in the night, he gave her leave to depart. 
Wiioin in her absence, to the standers by, he ga o as singular and 
182 



Her reconciliation with the king, 11 

as effectuous commendations, as before time to the bishop and 
the chancellor, who then were neither of them present, he 
seemed to mislike of her. 

"Now then, the king-'s mind was clean altered, and he de- 
tested in his heart, as afterwards he plainly showed, this tragical 
practice of those cruel Caiaphases; who nothing understanding 
of the king's well reformed mind, and good disposition toward 
the queen, were busily occupied about thinking and providing 
for their next day's labour, which was the day determined to 
have carried the queen to the Tower. 

" The day, and almost the hour appointed being come, the 
king being disposed in the ailernoon to take the air, waited upon 
with two gentlemen only of his bedchamber, went into the 
garden, whither the queen also came, being sent for by the king 
himself, the three ladies above named alone waiting upon her. 
With whom the king at that time disposed himself to be as 
pleasant as ever he was in all his life before. When suddenly, 
in the midst of their mirth, the hour determined being come, in 
comes the lord chancellor into the garden with forty of the king's 
guard at his heels, with purpose indeed to have taken the queen, 
together with the three ladies aforesaid, whom they had before 
purposed to apprehend alone, even then unto the Tower.* 
Whom then the king sternly beholding, breaking off his mirth 
with the queen, stepping a little aside, he called the chancellor 
unto him. Who upon his knees spake certain words unto the 
king, but what they were, for that they were softly spoken, ana 
the king a good distance from the queen, it is not well known- 
but it is most certain that the king's replying unto him was, 
knave, for his answer ; yea, arrant knave, beast, and fool ; and 
with that the king commanded him presently to avaunt out of 
his presence. Which words, although they were uttered somr 
what low, yet were they so vehemently whispered out by the 
king, that the queen with her ladies did easily overhear them ; 
which had been not a little to her comfort, if she had known at 
that time the w^hole cause of his coming so perfectly as after 
she knew it. Thus departed the lord chancellor out of the king's 
presence as he came, with all his train, the whole mould of all 
his device being utterly broken. 

"The king, after his departure, immediately returned to the 
queen. Whom she perceiving to be very much chafed, albeit 
coming towards her he enforced himself to put on a merry coun- 
tenance, with as sweet words as she could utter, endeavoured to 
qualify the king's displeasure, with request unto his majesty in 
the behalf of the lord chancellor, whom he seemed to be offended 
withal ; saying, for his excuse, that albeit she knew not what just 

* Fuller says, " Whither had she been sent, vestii^ia nulla retrorsum, 
(alhidinj^ to Ksop's fable of no footsteps beine: found pointins: back- 
wards fronn the lion's den,) without doubt she liad followed ihe^way of 
his former wives in that place." 

183 



r 



12 Queen Catherine Parr, — Life. 

cause his majesty had at that time to be offended with him, yet 
she thought that ignorance, not will, was the cause of his error, 
and so besought his majesty, if the cause were not very heinous, 
at her humble suit to take it. 

" ' Ah ! poor soul,' quoth he, ' thou little knowest how evil he 
deserveth this grace at thy hands. Of my word, sweet heart, 
he hath been towards thee an arrant knave, and so let him go.' 
To this the queen in charitable manner replying in few words, 
ended that talk ; having also by God's only blessing, happily for 
that time and ever, escaped the dangerous snares of her bloody 
and cruel enemies for the gospel's sake." 

This attempt of Gardiner's, with some other practices of his 
about this period, in favour of popery, caused the king to order 
his name to be erased from the list of his executors, and to take 
some other steps which facilitated the progress of the reforma- 
tion at the commencement of the reign of Edward VI. 

Among other services Catherine Parr at this time rendered to 
the cause of learning and truth, was the preventing the confis- 
cation of the colleges at Cambridge by her intercession, which 
were placed at the king's disposal by a recent act, while many 
alx)ut the court were anxious to obtain their revenues. 

There can be no doubt that by the example and efforts of queen 
Catherine, much outward decorum, at least, was introduced into 
the court while she presided ; and in many instances more than 
an external profession of religion. Her own constant attention 
to the observances of religion, appears not only from the fore- 
going narrative of Fox, but also from the little devotional works 
compiled by her, especially her prayers and meditations, several 
editions of wliich were printed in 1545 and the two following 
years, in a form particularly well suited to be a convenient 
manual for constant use. Ballard has remarked, that the dread- 
ful alarm she must have felt at the attempt of Gardiner for her 
destruction, seems to have awakened all the divine faculties of 
her soul, and to have made her more earnest in preparation for 
eternity. 

Fuller observes of queen Catherine, that she was "one of 
great piety, beauty, and discretion. Next to the bible she 
studied the king's disposition, observing him to her utmost. 
And need she had of a nimble soul to attend at all times on his 
luimour, whose fury had now got the addition of frowardness 
thereunto. She was ratlier nurse than wife unto him, who was 
more decayed by sickness and intemperance than old age." 

The history of queen Catherine Parr, afler the decease of 
Henry, is short and melancholy. The provision he made for her, 
though a mark of his affection and esteem, was but a slender pro- 
vision for one of her rank.* Thus left an unprotected female in 
troublous times, it is not surprising that slie should listen to the 

* Four thousand pounds in addition to her jointure. 
184 



Her marriage with the lord admiral^ and death, 13 

addresses of a man of rank and power, earlier than modern ideas 
of propriety would countenance. She married in the same year 
Sir Thomas Seymour, lo'-d admiral of England, uncle to king- 
Edward and brother to the protector, the duke of Somerset. It 
appears that she was the more inclined to this union by the re- 
vival of an early affection for that able, but ambitious and un* 
principled individual. Ambition, indeed, appears to have been 
his chief inducement to this alliance, which was disapproved by 
his brother, though the young king wrote a congratulatory letter 
to the queen, assuring her that suitable provision should be mad.e 
for them if at any time need required. 

With the lord admiral she lived but a short time, and that very 
unhappily. He was a scorner of the truth, and though he din 
not prevent her continuing openly to manifest her regard for the 
gospel, lie did not hesitate to show his own indifference, by con- 
tinually absenting himself from the public services she instituted 
for the benefit of their family. Latimer openly spoke of this in 
one of his sermons before king Edward. (See Latimer, p. 62.) 

This pious female was soon released from her trials. She died 
in September, 1548, soon afler giving birth to a daughter ; not 
without strong suspicions that she was poisoned by her husband, 
who was desirous of marrying the princess Elizabeth. His am- 
bitious and cruel practices, however, soon met with a just reward. 
To use the words of Latimer, " he died very dangerously, irk- 
somely, horribly." He had been in practice, if not in profession, 
an open infidel. Some lines, however, written by him a short 
time before his execution, evince a mind aware of the cause of his 
situatior. ; he says, "Forgetting God to love a king, hath been 
cr.y rod. Her daughter, thus left an orphan, died at an early age. 

Her writings consist of a small manual of Prayers or Medita- 
tions, which is reprinted in the following pages. There is also a 
compilatiot., chiefly from scripture, entitled Psalms. These are 
fifleen in number, and are reflections on various subjects con- 
nected with Christian life. But the most valuable of her writings 
was, " Queen Catherine Parr's Lamentation of a Sinner, bewail- 
ing the ignorance of her blind life." This was published afler 
her decease by lord Burleigh, who found it among her papers, 
and it is reprinted in the present collection. Some letters written 
by her will be found in Strype and Haynes. She also translated 
an exposition of the fifly-first Psalm made by Jerome ;f Ferraria. 
The part she took in the translation of the Paraphrr »v. of Erasmus 
has been already noticed. 

Such was Catherine Parr, one of those queens whom God has 
been pleased to constitute nursing mothers to his church — a 
main instrument in protecting and advancing the English refor- 
mation at a most critical period ; one who, it cannot be doubted, 
was a real follower of Christ. 



17* 185 



14 Queen Catherine Parr. — Life. 

The following consolatory letter, written by Catherine Parr, shows her 
pietv, and her attention to the precepts of the gospel, for it was addressed 
to the wife of one of her bitter opponents. 

Letter of Queen Catherine Parr to Lady Wriothesley, 
comforting her for the loss of her 07ily son. 

Good my lady Wriothesley, understanding it hath pleased God 
of late to disinherit your son of this world, of intent he should 
become partner and chosen heir of the everlasting inheritance, 
for which calling and happy vocation ye may rejoice, yet when 
I consider you are a mother by flesh and nature, doubting how 
you can give place quietly to the same ; inasmuch as Christ's 
mother, endued with all godly virtues, did utter a sorrowful na- 
tural passion of her Son's death, whereby we have all obtained 
everlastingly to live — therefore amongst other discreet and godly 
consolations given unto you, as well by my lord your husband, as 
other your wise friends, I have thought with mine own hand to 
recommend unto you my simple counsel and advice ; desiring" 
you not so to utter your natural affection by inordinate sorrow, 
that God have cause to take you as a murmurer against his ap- 
^intments and ordinances. For what is excessive sorrow but 
a plain evidence against you, that your inward mind doth repine 
against God's doings, and a declaration that you are not contentea 
Jdt God hath put your son by nature, but his by adoption, in 
possession of the heavenly kingdom? Such as have doubted of 
the everlasting life to come, do sorrow and bewail the departure 
hence, but those which are persuaded that to die here is life 
again, do rather hunger for death, and count it a felicity, than 
to bewail it as an utter destruction. 

How much, madam, are you to be counted godly wise, that 
will and can prevent, through your godly wisdom, knowledge, 
and humble submission, that thing which time would at length 
finish. If you lament your son's death, you do him great wrong, 
and show yourself to sorrow for the happiest thing that ever 
came to him, being in the hands of his best Father. If you are 
sorry for your own commodity, you show yourself to live to 
yourself. And as of his towardness you could but only hope, his 
years were so young which could perform nothing, it seemeth 
that he was now a meet and pleasant sacrifice for Christ. 

Wherefore, good my lady Wriothesley, put away all immode- 
rate and unjust heaviness, requiring you with thanksgiving to 
frame your licart, that the Father in lieaven may think you arc 
most glad and best contented to make him a present of his spiri- 
tual, and your only natural son ; glorifying him more in that it 
hath pleased his majesty to accept and able him to his kingdom, 
than that it first pleased liim to comfort you with such a gift; 
who can at his pleasure recompense your loss with sucli a like 
jewel, if gladly and quietly you submit, and refer all to liis 
pleasure. 
186 



SOME ACCOUNT 



1i 



LADY JANE GREY-* 



Lady Jane Grey was an illustrious personage of the 
blood royal of England, by both parents — her grandmother 
on her father's side, (Henry Grey, marquis of Dorset,) being 
queen consort to Edward IV.; and her grandmother on her 
mother's, (lady Frances Brandon,) being daughter to Henry 
VII. queen dowager of France, and mother to Mary queen 
of Scots. Lady Jane had no brothers, she was the eldest 
of three daughters, and was born in 1537, at Bradgate, her 
father's seat in Leicestershire. She very early gave aston- 
ishing proofs of her uncommon abilities, insomuch that, 
upon a comparison with Edward VI., who was nearly of 
the same age, and thought a kind of miracle, the superior- 
ity has been given to her in every respect. Her genius ap- 
peared in the works of her needle, and the beautiful charac- 
ter in which she wrote; besides which she played admira- 
bly on various instruments of music, and accompanied them 
with a voice exquisitely sweet in itself, assisted by all the 
graces that art could bestow. These, however, were only 
the inferior ornaments of her character; she was far from 
priding herself on them, while through the rigour of her pa- 
rents in exacting such great attention to them, they became 
her grief more than her pleasure. 

Her father had himself some taste for letters, and was a 
great patron of the learned. He had two chaplains, Hardingt 

* There arc several biofrrapliical sketches of Lady Jane Grey ex- 
tant, wliicli have supj)licd the substance of the present account. The 
most recent, " Howard's Lady Jane Grey and her times,'' contains 
numerous historical i)articulars relative to her family and contempo- 
raries, wliich tlie author lias collected with considerable industry. To 
the present sketch some letters are added, which have not before 
been accessible to the En^lislj reader. 

t Harding was a learned divine of Oxford. He professed tlie pro- 
testant reli«rion on the accession of Edward VL, and became cliaplain 
to the Duke of Suffolk. When queen Mary came to the throne, ho 
274 



Her learning and piety. 3 

and Aylmer,* both men of distinguished learning, whom 
he employed as tutors to his daughter; and under whose 
instructions she made such proficiency as surprised them 
both. Her own language she spoke and wrote with pecu- 
liar accuracy; the French, Italian, Latin, and, it is said, 
Greek, were as natural to her as her own; she not only 
understood them, but spoke and wrote them with the great- 
est freedom; she was versed likewise in Hebrew, Chaldee, 
and Arabic, and all this while a mere child. She had also 
a sedateness of temper, a quickness of apprehension, and a 
solidity of judgment, which enabled her not only to become 
the mistress of languages, but of sciences; so that she 
thougbt, spoke, and reasoned, upon subjects of the greatest 
importance, in a manner that surprised all. She was 
brought up in piety as well as learning. Her early letters 
show that she lived in the fear of God, and that she follow- 
ed the protestant faith from principle. As Burnet observes, 
She read the Scriptures much, and acquired great know- 
ledge in divinity. 

With these endowments she had so much mildness, hu- 
mility, and modesty, that she set no value upon those ac- 
quisitions; she was naturally fond of literature, and that 
fondness was much heightened as well by the severity of 
her parents in the feminine part of her education, as by 
the gentleness of her tutor Aylmer in this. When morti- 
fied and confounded by the unmerited chiding of the for- 
mer, she returned with double pleasure to the lessons of 
the latter, and sought in Demosthenes and Plato, who 
were her favourite authors, the delight that was denied 
her in all other scenes of life, in which she mingled but 
little, and seldom with any satisfaction. It is true, her al- 
liance to the crown, as well as the great favour in which 
the marquis of Dorset, her father, stood with Henry VIII. 
and Edward VI. unavoidably brought her sometimes to 
court, and she received many marks of Edward's attention, 

returned to popery, in consequence of which his former pupil ad- 
dressed a letter to him written in severe terms, but such as he de- 
served for his apostasy. After the restoration of the protestant faith, 
Harding retired to the continent, and engaged in a warm and 
lengthened controversy with bishop Jewell. 

* Aylmer was an active preacher of the Reformation ; he boldly op- 
posed popery on the accession of queen Mary. He then withdrew to 
the continent, where he remained till Elizabeth came to the throne. 
In 1576 he was appointed bishop of London. He is noticed in the 
life of Becon. 

275 



4 Lady Jane Grey, 

yet she seems to have continued for the most part in the 
country, at Bradgate. 

Here she was with her beloved books in 1550, when the 
famous Roger Ascham* called on a visit to the family in 
August. All the rest being engaged in hunting, he went 
to wait upon Lady Jane in her apartment, and Ibund her 
reading the " Pliaedon" of Plato in the original Greek. 
Astonished at this, after the first salutations, he asked her, 
why she lost such pastime as there needs must be in the 
park, at which smiling, she answered, " I wist all their sport 
in the park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in 
Plato. Alas! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure 
meant." 

This naturally leading him to inquire how a lady of her 
age had attained to such a depth of pleasure, both in the 
language and philosophy of Plato, she made the following 
very remarkable reply ; " I will tell you, and I will tell you 
a truth, which perchance you will marvel at. One of the 
greatest benefits which ever God gave me is, that he sent 
me such sharp and severe parents, and so gentle a school- 
master. For when I am in presence either of father or 
mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, 
eat, drink, be merry or sad ; be sewing, playing, dancing, 
or doing any thing else, I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly 
threatened, yea, presently sometimes with pinches, nips, 
and bobs, and other ways, which I will not name for the 
honour I bear them, so without measure misordcred, that 
I think myself in hell, till time come that I must go to M. 
Aylmer, who teaches me so gently, so pleasantly, with such 
fair allurements to learning, that I think all the time 
nothing while I am with him; and when I am called from 
him, I fall to weeping, because whatsoever I do else but 
learning, is full of grief, trouble, fear, and wholly mis- 

* Ascham was an eminent scholar of the university of Cambridge, 
and particularly well skilled in Greek. In 1548, lie was appointed 
tutor to the princess (afterwards queen) Elizabetii; afterwards he 
was Latin secretary to Edward VI. lie continued to be a protcstant 
in the rei^^n of Mary, but was allowed to continue unmolested, and 
indeed patronized on account of his abilities. To his other attain- 
ments, he added that of writings a most beautiful hand. He was 
re-appointed Latin secretary and tutor to queen Elizabeth. Ascham 
died in 15G6. His last words were, " I am sulferiiig much pain, I sink 
under my disease; but tliis is my confession, this is my faith, this 
prayer contains all that I wish for, * I desire to depart hence, and to 
be with Clirist.' '* 
276 



AschaTfrCs account of her, 5 

liking unto me. And thus my book has .been so much my 
pleasure, and brings daily to me more and more pleasure; 
in respect of it all other pleasures in very deed are but 
trifles and troubles unto me." What reader is not affected 
with Ascham's account of this interview? We may also 
observe that although lady Jane was treated as a child by 
her harsh parents, yet learned and pious men, such as As- 
cham, Bucer, and Bullinger, regarded her as far beyond 
her years in piety and learning. 

At this time Ascham was going to London to attend sir 
Richard Morrison on an embassy to the emperor Charles V. 
In a letter written the December following, to the dearest of 
his friends, having informed him that he had lately had the 
honour and happiness of being admitted to converse fami- 
liarly with this young lady at court, and that she had writ- 
ten a very elegant letter to him, he proceeds to mention this 
visit at Bradgate, and his surprise thereon, not without some 
degree of rapture. Thence he takes occasion to observe, 
that she both spoke and wrote Greek to admiration; and 
that she had promised to write him a letter in that language, 
upon condition that he would send her one first from the 
emperor's court. 

This rapture rose much higher while he was penning a 
letter addressed to her the following month. In the letter 
speaking of these interviews, he assures her, that among 
all the agreeable varieties which he had met with in his tra- 
vels abroad, nothing had occurred to raise his admiration 
like that incident in the preceding summer, where he found 
her a young maiden" by birth so noble, in the absence of 
her tutor, and in the sumptuous house of her most noble 
father, at a time, too, when all the rest of the family both 
male and female, were amusing themselves with the plea- 
sures of the chase; "I found," continues he, " the divine 
maid diligently studying the divine Phsedon of the divine 
Plato in the original Greek. Happier, certainly, in this re- 
spect, than in being descended, both on the father and mo- 
ther's side, from kings and queens."* 

John ab Ulmis, writing from Bradgate in June 1551, to 
Bullinger, spoke in very high terms of lady Jane. He says, 
" From the learned epistle written to you by the daughter 
of this prince, you will easily perceive the respect and esteem 
she entertains towards you. Surely there never lived any one 
more to be respected than this young female if her family 
* Ascham, Ep. ad. Sturmium, i. 4, iii. 7. 

GREY. 25 277 



.y Jane Grey. 

be considered, more learned if we regard her age, or more 
excellent if we consider her in both. She is greatly praised 
by all the nobility, and they talk of her being espoused to 
the king. If that event should take place, how happy 
would the union be, and how beneficial to the church! But 
God will direct concerning these things; he only causes to 
prosper, he cares for, remembers, foresees, and disposes of 
all things agreeably to his will." 

About this time some changes happened in the family; 
for her maternal uncles, Henry and Charles Brandon, both 
dying at Bugden, the bishop of Lincoln's palace, of the 
sweating sickness, her father was created duke of Suffolk, 
October 1551. Dudley, earl of Warwick, was also created 
duke of Northumberland the same day; and in November 
the duke of Somerset was imprisoned for a conspiracy 
against him as privy counsellor. From that time lady Jane 
appears to have been occasionally at court. In the summer 
of 1552 the king made a great progress through some parts 
of England, during which lady Jane went to pay her duty 
to his majesty's sister, the lady Mary, at Newhall in Essex. 
During this visit, her piety, and zeal against popery, prompt- 
ed her to reprove the Lady Ann Wharton, for making a 
courtesy to the host, or consecrated wafer, enclosed in a box, 
suspended, as was then usual, over the altar. Lady Jane 
observing her companion courtesy, asked if the princess 
were coming. Her companion replied No, but she made obei- 
sance to him that made us all. Why, said lady Jane, how 
can that be he that made us all, for the baker made him? 
which being carried by some officious person to the ear of 
the princess, was retained in her heart, so that she never 
loved lady Jane afterwards; and indeed the events of the 
following year were not likely to work a reconciliation. 

Another anecdote of her is related by Aylmer. lie says, 
that having received from the lady Mary goodly apparel of 
tinsel cloth of gold and velvet, laid on with parsement lace 
of gold, when she saw it she said, '* What shall I do with 
it?" Wear it, said a gentlewoman standing by. Nay, an- 
swered she, it were a shame to follow my lady Mary against 
God's word, and leave my lady Elizabeth who followeth 
(xod's word. 

The duki^s of Suffolk and Northumberland, who were 

now, after the fall of Somerset, grown to the height of 

their wishes in power, upon the decline of the king's health 

in 1553, began to think how to prevent that reverse of 

278 



Her Marriage. 1 

fortune, which, as things then stood, they foresaw must hap- 
pen upon his death. To obtain this end, no other remedy 
was judged sufficient, but a change in the succession of the 
crown, and transferring it into their own families. 

What other steps were taken preparatory to this bold 
attempt, may be seen in the general histories. Those excel- 
lent and amiable qualities which had rendered lady Jane 
dear to all who had the happiness to know her, joined to 
her near affinity to the king, subjected her to become the 
chief tool of an ambition notoriously not her own. 

Upon this very account she was married to the lord 
Guildford Dudley, fourth son to the duke of Northumber- 
land, without being acquainted with the real design of the 
match, which was celebrated with great pomp in the latter 
end of May, 1553; at the same time her younger sister, 
and the sister of her husband, were married to the lords 
Herbert and Hastings. These marriages were so much to 
the king's satisfaction that he contributed largely to the 
expense of them from the royal wardrobe. In the mean 
time, though the populace were very far from being pleased 
with the exorbitant greatness of the duke of Northumber- 
land, yet ihey could not help admiring the beauty and in- 
nocence which appeared in lord Guildford and his bride. 
Lady Jane then removed from her father's house to the 
residences of the Dudleys^ — Durham house in London, and 
Sion house in the country. From her letter to queen Mary, 
she seems to have spent some days of this short period 
with her mother. 

The pomp and splendour attending these nuptials was 
the last gleam of joy that shone in the palace of Edward, 
who grew so weak in a few days after, that Northumber- 
land thought it high time to carry his project into execution. 
Accordingly, in the beginning of June, he broke the matter 
to the young monarch; who at length yielded to overlook 
his sisters, and to set aside his father's will ; agreeably to 
which, a deed of settlement being drawn up in form of law 
by the judges, was signed by his majesty and all the lords 
of the council. Judge Hales however to the last refused his 
assent, and Cranmer was only induced to comply by the ex- 
press commands of king Edward, and the assurance of the 
law officers of the crown, that such a proceeding was lawful. 

The next step was to concert the most proper method for 
carrying this settlement into execution, and, till that was 
done, to keep it as secret as possible. To this end Nor- 

279 



8 Lady Jane Grey, 

thumberland directed letters to the lady Mary in her bro- 
ther's name, requiring her attendance at Greenwich, where 
the court then was; but she discerned the real object of this 
invitation, and two days before the death of her brother, 
she retired to Norfolk, from whence she could escape by 
sea if she found it requisite to do so. The king expired 
July 6, 1553, but the two dukes, Suffolk and Northumber- 
land, found it necessary to conceal his decease, that they 
might have time to gain the city of London, and to procure 
the consent of lady Jane, who was so far from being con- 
cerned in this business, that, as yet, she was unacquainted 
with the pains that had been taken to procure her the title 
of queen. 

The Tower and city of London being secured, the coun- 
cil quitted Greenwich and came to London; and July 10, 
in the forenoon, the two last-mentioned dukes repaired to 
Sion house, where the lady Jane resided with her husband 
as part of the Northumberland family. There the duke 
of Northumberland, with much solemnity, explained to his 
daughter-in-law the disposition the late king had made of 
his crown by letters-patent; the clear sense the privy-coun- 
cil had of her right; the consent of the magistrates and 
citizens of London; and, in conclusion, himself and other 
nobles fell on their knees, and paid their homage to her as 
queen of England. Lady Jane, somewhat astonished at 
their discourse, but not at all moved by their reasons, or in 
the least elevated by such unexpected honours, returned 
them an answer to this effect: That the laws of the king- 
dom and natural right standing for the king's sisters, she 
would beware of burdening her weak conscience with a 
yoke which belonged to them; that she understood the in- 
famy of those who had permitted the violation of right to 
gain a sceptre; that it were to mock God and deride justice 
to scruple at the stealing of a shilling, and not at the usur- 
pation of a crown. 

" Besides," said she, " I am not so young, nor so little 
read in the guiles of fortune, to sufier myself to be taken 
by them. If she enrich any, it is but to make them the 
subject of her spoil; if she raise others, it is but to pleasure 
herself with their ruins; what she adored but yesterday, 
is to-day her pastime; and, if T now permit her to adorn 
and crown me, 1 must, to-morrow, suflbr her to crush and 
tear me to pieces. Nay, with what crown does she present 
me! a crown which hath been violently and shamefully 
280 



Prevailed vpon to be Que^n, 9 

wrested from Catharine of Arragon, made more unfortu- 
nate by the punishment of Ann Boleyn, and others that 
wore it after her; and why then would you have me add 
my blood to theirs, and be the third victim from whom this 
fatal crown may be ravished with the head that wears it? 
But in case it should not prove fatal unto me, and that all 
its venom were consumed, if fortune should give me war- 
ranties of her constancy, should I be well advised to take 
upon me these thorns which would lacerate, though not kill 
me outright; to burden myself with a yoke, which would 
not fail to torment me, though I were assured not to be 
strangled with it? My liberty is better than the chain you 
proffer me, with what precious stones soever it be adorned, 
or of what gold soever framed. I will not exchange my 
peace for honourable and precious jealousies, for magnifi- 
cent and glorious fetters; and, if you love me sincerely, 
and in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and 
quiet fortune, though mean, than an exalted condition ex- 
posed to the wind, and followed by some dismal fall." 
Lady Jane herself described the principal circumstances 
attending her elevation to the throne in a letter to queen 
Mary, see p. 28. 

However she was at length prevailed upon by the exhor- 
tations of her father, the intercession of her mother, the art- 
ful persuasions of Northumberland, and, above all, by the 
earnest desires of her husband, whom she tenderly loved, to 
yield her assent to what had been done, and what remained 
to do. And thus, with a heavy heart, she suffered herself to 
be conveyed by water to the Tower, where she entered with 
all the state of a queen, attended by the principal nobility, 
and, what is very extraordinary, her train was supported by 
the duchess of Suffolk, her mother, in whom, if in any of 
this line, the right of succession remained. About six in 
the afternoon, she was proclaimed with all due solemnities 
in the city; the same day she also assumed the regal title, 
and proceeded afterwards to exercise many acts of sove- 
reignty: but, passing over the transactions of her short 
reign of fourteen days, which are the subjects of general 
history, we may proceed to her behaviour on her fall, which 
was occasioned rather by the general apprehensions of 
Northumberland's tyranny than by any affection for Mary. 

Queen Mary was no sooner proclaimed, than the duke of 
Suffolk, who then resided with his daughter in the Tower, 
went to her apartment, and, in the softest terms he could, 

25* 281 



10 Lady Jane Grey. 

acquainted her with the situation of their affairs, and that, 
laying aside the state and dignity of a queen, she must 
again return to that of a private person; to which, with a 
settled and serene countenance, she made this answer: " I 
better brook this message than my former advancement to 
royalty ; out of obedience to you and my mother, I have 
grievously sinned, and offered violence to myself. Now I 
do willingly, and as obeying the motions of my soul, relin- 
quish the crown, and endeavour to salve those faults com- 
mitted by others, if at least so great a fault can be salved, 
by a willing relinquishment and ingenuous acknowledg- 
ment of them."* 

Burnet observes. She had a mind wonderfully raised 
above the world ; and at the age wherein others are but 
imbibing the notions of philosophy, she had attained to the 
practice of the highest precepts of it. She was neither 
lifted up with the hope of a crown, nor cast down when 
she saw her palace made, afterwards, her prison; but car- 
ried herself with an equal temper of mind, in those great 
inequalities of fortune which so suddenly exalted and de- 
pressed her. 

Thus ended her reign, but not her misfortunes. She was 
separated from her husband by the command of bishop 
Gardiner. They were placed separately in confinement, 
being stripped of every penny they possessed. She saw 
the father of her husband, with all his family, and many of 
the nobility and gentry, brought prisoners to the Tower, 
for supportincr her claim to the crown; and this grief must 
have met with some accession from his being soon after 
brought to the block. Before the end of the month, she 
had the mortification of seeing her father, the duke of 
Suffolk, in the same circumstances with herself; but her 
mother, the duchess, not only remained exempt from all 
punishment, but had such interest with the queen, as to 
procure the duke his liberty, on the last day of the month. 
Lady Jane and her husband, being still in confinement, 
were, November 3, 1553, carried from the Tower to Guild- 
hall, with Cranmer and others, and arraigned for high 

* The suddenness of tins chang-c is shown by the following" cir- 
cumst.ance. Lady Jane had sijrnified her willingness to stand god- 
mother to the son of a gentleman pensioner, named Underhill. She 
Bent lady Tlirockmorton as her proxy, wlio left the Tower in the 
aflcrnoon to attend tlie christening^, her mistress then being regard- 
ed as qnr(3n. On her return in the evening, she found the ensigns 
of royalty all removed, and her mistress a prisoner I 

28:? 



Sentenced to die. * 11 

treason. They pleaded guilty. Lady Jane manifested the 
utmost coolness and presence of mind upon this occasion. 
Neither the pressure of the crowd, the clash of arms of the 
numerous guard, nor the solemn ceremonies observed in 
passing sentence, seemed to affect or overcome her. After 
her return, she had in fact to comfort those Vv^hose business 
it was rather to have comforted her. Judge Morgan, who 
pronounced sentence of death upon lady Jane, afterwards 
became raving mad, in which state he died, incessantly 
calling out that the lady Jane should be taken from his 
sight. 

It is not easy to ascertain what were Mary's intentions 
towards lady Jane Grey and her husband. She addressed 
a letter to queen Mary, applying for mercy, and the author 
by whom this letter is printed, states that the queen resolved 
to pardon her at that time, but was induced afterwards to 
order her execution in consequence of the part taken by 
her father in Wyatt's insurrection. Several little indul- 
gences were granted to them, which tended to alleviate the 
severity of their confinement, and which would imply a 
design of mercy towards them; but the conduct of Mary 
and her counsellors in other cases, also shows that this 
might be done to promote an object she had much at heart, 
namely, to induce the prisoners to profess the Romish faith. 
But lady Jane had counted the cost of following the truth, 
promises and threats were both disregarded, she evidently 
expected to suffer; she was, however, kept some months 
in suspense. 

In January, 1554, the proposed marriage of the queen 
with Philip of Spain, had excited so much disgust in the 
nation, that sir Thomas Wyatt and others took arms with 
a view to prevent a union from which they anticipated 
many calamities to England. This hasty and ill-concerted 
insurrection was soon suppressed. No religious question 
was mixed with it, and many of the protestants were most 
active in opposing it, but the duke of Suffolk endeavoured 
to promote these proceedings, and the death of his daughter 
and her husband was resolved on. The news made no 
great impression upon lady Jane; the bitterness of death 
was passed; she had expected it, and was so well prepared 
to meet her fate, that she was very little discomposed. 

Bishop Ponet expressly declares, that several of the 
council who had been most active in setting up lady Jane 
against queen Mary, were now active in causing her execu- 

263 



12 Lady Jane Grey, 

tion ! The day first fixed for her death was Friday, Febru- 
ary 9, and she had, in some measure, taken leave of the 
world by writing a letter to her unhappy father, who she 
heard was more disturbed with the thoughts of being the 
author of her death, than with the apprehension of his 
own. While she was in this frame of mind, Dr. Fecken- 
ham, abbot of Westminster, came to her from the queen, 
who was very desirous she should die professing herself a 
papist, as her father-in-law had done.* The abbot was 
the queen's confessor, and a very fit instrument, if any had 
been fit for the purpose, having, with an acute wit, and a 
plausible tongue, a great tenderness in his nature. 

Lady Jane received him with much civility, and be- 
haved towards him with so much calmness and sweetness 
of temper, that he could not help being overcome with her 
distress; so that, either mistaking, or pretending to mis- 
take her meaning, he procured a respite of her execution 
till the 12th. When he acquainted her with it, and wished 
to enter upon a more formal conference, she told him, that 
he had entirely misunderstood her sense of her situation; 
that, far from desiring her death might be delayed, she ex- 
pected and wished for it as the period of her miseries, and 
as her entrance into eternal happiness. f 

Feckenham went to this conference with great hope and 
exultation. He appears to have thought that it would be 
no difiicult matter to triumph over a dejected and heart- 
broken young female. But he found it quite otherwise. 
Yet lady Jane was still anxious to decline the proposed 
dispute; telling him that now she had no time to spare — 
that controversy might be fit for the living, but not for the 
dying — and, therefore, the truest sign of his having that 
compassion for her, of which he made such strong profes- 
sions, would be to leave her undisturbed in her intercourse 
with God. 

* The cUiko of Northumberland was beheaded Auo^ust 22d. lie 
liad been confined in a part of the Tower of Jjondon, called Beau- 
champ's tower. Some years since a curious device and inscription 
was discovered on one of the walls of this room, which there is 
fitrontr reason to })elieve had been carved by this unhaj)py nobleman. 
The name of his dau<Thter-in-law "Jane" liad also been cut by him 
in two places. He appears to liavc been willing to do any thing to 
save; his life. 

t Banks, in a letter written at this time, Ep. Ilelv. Ecc.Ref. Ixxix. 
states, tliat lady Jane had desired a brief interval, " that those entice- 
ments which invited her to wish for life, might be repressed, and 
entirely cut down by the sword of the word of God." 
284 



Her last hours. 13 

With this humble request the confessor's presumptuous 
hopes forbad compliance; particularly as several indivi- 
duals had been purposely admitted, before whom he was 
anxious to display his powers. 

The account of this conference states, that Feckenham 
had with her a long and tedious disputation ; but, like the 
other priests who had preceded him in attempting to bring 
her back to popery, he found himself in all holy gifts much 
her inferior. He even acknowledged himself fitter to be 
her disciple than her teacher; and he besought her to 
deliver to him some brief account of her faith, which he 
might hereafter keep, and as a faithful witness publish to 
the world. To this she is stated to have willingly condes- 
cended; telling him to question her in what points of 
religion soever it pleased him, and promised that she would 
give answers, such as she would be ever ready to seal with 
her blood. This catechising argument, for such it was, 
took place in the Tower publicly, before an assemblage of 
the noble and learned; during which, lady Jane bore her- 
self with such a modest humility, yet so honourably stout 
in all things, which either concerned her God, or her reli- 
gion, that she engaged all the. hearts of her auditory, while 
Feckenham lost much of that good opinion of his learning, 
which for a long time he had enjoyed. On this, we are 
told, that finding his own weakness, and his inability to 
repel her truth with his scholastic fallacies, he lost his 
temper, and dared to use to her speeches unsuitable for his 
gravity; an insult, however, which she only answered with 
smiles and patience. Some notes of this conference were 
drawn up by lady Jane herself, and will be found in the 
following pages. 

When Feckenham was about to depart, he said, " Madam, 
I am sorry for you and your obstinacy, and now I am 
assured you and I shall never meet again." She replied, 
" It is most true. Sir, we shall never meet again, except 
God turn your heart; for I stand undoubtedly assured that 
unless you repent and turn to God, you are in a sad and 
desperate case ; and I pray to God in his mercy to send 
you his Holy Spirit, for he hath given you of his great gift 
of utterance, if it please him to open your heart to the 
truth." 

Between the announcement of the order for her execu- 
tion, and its fulfilment, the lieutenant of the Tower, sir 
John Gage, evidently impressed with love and respect for 

285 



14 Lady Jane Grey. 

the unhappy sufferers, was anxious to procure some me- 
morial of his illustrious prisoners; and accordingly he 
presented to them a ^' vellum book of a small thickish size,* 
being the devotions of some English protestant of quality, 
who was cast into prison wrongfully, according to his own 
opinion. It was illuminated by some foreigner, but hath 
since been abused : and is now imperfect in two places." 
Such is the description of the book in the Harleian cata- 
logue, to which is added a note; " I will not affirm that this 
manual was written by the direction of Edward Seymour, 
duke of Somerset, and protector of England, upon his first 
commitment to the Tower of London, and that the last five 
prayers were added after his second commitment, which 
ended in his execution. But if this were so, it is easy to 
apprehend how it might come into the hands of that noble, 
but unfortunate lady, the lady Jane Grey; but that this 
book was in the lady Jane's hands, or possession, and was 
also looked into by her husband, appears from three notes, 
written on the lower margins." 

The probability is, that the book had been borrowed by 
the illustrious sufferers; and other materials not being 
allowed, was made by them the means of communicating 
their last wishes and farewells to their friends. The first 
note is evidently addressed by lord Guildford to his father- 
in-law. " Your loving and obedient son wisheth unto your 
grace, long life in this world, with as much joy and com- 
fort as ever I wished to myself; and in the world to come 
joy everlasting. Your most humble son till his death. G. 

DUDDELEY." 

A few pages further on, is a note from lady Jane, ad- 
dressed to the duke of Suffolk ; " The Lord comfort your 
grace, and that in his word, wherein all his creatures only 
are to be comforted. And though it hath pleased God to 
take away two of your children, yet think not, I most 
humbly beseech your grace, that you have lost them; but 
trust that we, by leaving this mortal life, have won an 
immortal life. And I for my part, as I have honoured your 
grace in this life, will pray for you in another life. Your 
grace's most humble daughter, Jane Duddeley." 

Lady Jane also addressed sir John Gage in the following 
words; "Forasmuch as you have desired so simple a 
woman to write in so worthy a book, good master lieuten- 

» It is now in the British l\Iuseum, Harl. Cpll. No. 2342. 
286 



Her courage in the 'prospect of Death, 15 

ant, therefore I shall, as a friend, desire you, and as a 
Christian require you, to call upon God to incline your 
heart to his laws, to quicken you in his way, and not to 
take the word of truth utterly out of your mouth. Live 
still to die, that by death you may purchase eternal life; 
and remember how the end of Methusael, who, as we read 
in the Scriptures, was the longest liver that ever was of a 
man, died at the last. For, as the preacher saith, there is 
a time to be born and a time to die; and the day of death 
is better than the day of our birth. Yours, as the Lord 
knoweth, as a friend. Jane Duddeley." 

On the 11th of February she was, for the most part, 
occupied in religious exercises and meditations, but in the 
course of the evening she took up a New Testament in 
Greek, " in which after she had read awhile, and closing 
the book, she found at the end of it some leaves of clean 
paper unwritten; which," says the author quoted, " as it 
were awakening and exciting her zeal, to some good and 
charitable office, she took pen and ink, and on these waste 
leaves wrote a most learned and godly exhortation; which 
she had no sooner finished, than she closed up the book, 
and delivered it to one of her attendants, mistress Tylney, 
or mistress Ellen, desiring her to bear it to her sister, lady 
Herbert, as the last token of her love and remembrance." 

After finishing this exhortation to her sister, she was not 
permitted to remain in peace, but was again assailed by 
two bishops and two learned doctors, who held her in deep 
conference upwards of two hours, striving with all their 
powers of eloquence and persuasion to induce her to recant, 
and die in the Romish faith; in this, however, they were, 
as before, totally unsuccessful; for "her faith being built 
upon the rock, Christ, was by no worldly persuasion or 
comfort to be either moved or shaken; so that, after the 
expense of time, and the loss of much speech, they lefi: 
her, as they said, a lost and forsaken member ; but she, as 
before, prayed for them, and with a most charitable patience 
endured their worst censures." 

The queen intended that lady Jane and her husband 
should suffer together on Tower-hill, but the council, fear- 
ful of the effect her appearance might have upon the people, 
ordered that she should suffer within the walls of the 
Tower. In the morning, the lord Guildford earnestly 
desired the officers, that he might take his last farewell of 
her ; which, though they willingly gave permission, yet upon 

287 



16 Lady Jane Grey. 

notice, she advised the contrary, assuring him that such a 
meeting would rather add to his afflictions than increase 
the quiet wherewith they had prepared their souls for the 
stroke of death ; that he demanded a lenitive, which would 
put fire into the wound, and that it was to be feared her 
presence would rather weaken than strengthen him; that 
he ought to take courage from his reason, and derive con- 
stancy from his own heart; that if his soul were not firm 
and settled, she could not settle it by her eyes, nor confirm 
it by her words; that he should do well to remit this 
interview to the other world; that there, indeed, friendships 
were happy, and unions indissoluble, and that theirs would 
be eternal, if their souls carried nothing with them of ter- 
restrial, which might hinder them from rejoicing. All she 
would do was to give him a farewell out of a window, as 
he passed to the place of his dissolution, which he suffered 
on the scaffold on Tower-hill with much Christian meek- 
ness. His body was then carried back to the Tower in a 
cart. It is related that lady Jane was then sitting in her 
chamber, but on hearing the rumbling of the cart she arose 
and went to the window, though entreated by her attendants 
not to do so. She beheld his remains, and said, " O Guild- 
ford, Guildford, the anterepast is not so bitter that you 
have tasted, and that I shall soon taste, as to make my 
flesh tremble; it is nothing compared to the feast that you 
and I shall this day partake of in heaven." 

She then sat down and wrote in her tablets three short 
sentences. The first was in Greek, and may be thus trans- 
lated; " If his slain body shall give testimony against me 
before men, his blessed soul shall render an eternal proof 
of my innocence before God." She here adverted to her 
not having desired the crown. The second sentence was 
in Latin; "The justice of men took away his body, but 
the divine mercy has saved his soul." The third was in 
English; " If my fault deserved punishment, my youth 
and my imprudence were worthy of excuse; God and pos- 
terity will show me favour." 

About an hour after she was led to the scaflfbld within 
the Tower. She was attended by Feckenham, but was 
observed not to give much heed to his discourses, keeping 
her eyes steadfastly fixed on a book of prayers, which she 
had in her hand. Aflcr some short recollection, she saluted 
those who were present with a countenance perfectly com- 
posed ; then taking leave of Feckenham, she said, " God 
288 



Her Execution, 17 

will abundantly requite you, good sir, for your humanity 
to me, though your discourses gave me more uneasiness 
than all the terrors of my approaching death." She ex- 
hibited a countenance so gravely settled with all modest 
and comely resolution, that not the slightest trace of fear 
or grief could be observed in her words or actions. 

When she mounted upon the scaffold, she said to the 
people standing thereabout, " Good people, I am come 
hither to die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. 
The fact against the queen's highness was unlawful, and 
the consenting thereunto by me ; but touching the procure- 
ment and desire thereof by me, or on my behalf, I do wash 
my hands thereof in innocency before God, and the face 
of you good Christian people this day ;" and therewith she 
wrung her hands wherein she had her book. Then said 
she, " I pray you all, good Christian people, to bear me 
witness that I die a true Christian woman, and that I do 
look to be saved by no other means, but only by the mercy 
of God in the blood of his only Son Jesus Christ; and I 
do confess, that when I did know the word of God, I 
neglected the same, and loved piyself and the world; and 
therefore this plague and punishment is happily and wor- 
thily happened unto me for my sins ; and yet I thank God 
of his goodness, that he has thus given me a time and 
respite to repent. And now, good people, while I am 
alive, I pray you assist me with your prayers." Then 
kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham, saying, Shall I 
say this psalm? and he said. Yea. Then said she the fifty- 
first psalm in English, in most devout manner, to the end; 
and then she stood up and gave her attendant, mistress 
Ellen, her gloves and handkerchief, and her book to master 
Brydges (Gage?) of the Tower, and then she untied her 
gown, and the executioner pressed upon her to help her off 
with it, but she desiring him to let her alone, turned towards 
her two gentlewomen, who helped her off therewith, also 
her neckerchief, giving her a fair handkerchief to knit 
about her eyes.* 

Then the executioner kneeled down and asked her for- 
giveness, whom she forgave most willingly. Then he 
willed her to stand upon the straw, which doing she saw 
the block; then she said, I pray you dispatch me quickly. 
Then she kneeled down, saying, will you take it off before 

* Her gloves were sent to Bullinger, as a memorial of his beloved 
correspondent. See Lit. Hclvet. Reform, p. 351. 

GREY. 26 289 



18 Lady Jane Grey. 

I lay me down? and the executioner said, No madam. 
Then tied she the handkerchief about her eyes, and feeling 
for the block, she said, What shall I do? Where is it? 
where is it? One of the standers-by guiding her thereunto, 
she laid her head upon the block, and then stretched forth 
her body, and said. Lord, into thy hands I commend ray 
spirit; and so finished her life, in the year of our Lord God 
1554, the 12th day of February. 

It was long after called black Monday, as being the 
commencement of a week in which forty-seven persons 
were executed, and some of them quartered alive, in the 
streets of London ! This excessive severity excited general 
indignation, and Knox in his bold and courageous manner 
observed, " I find that Jezebel, that cursed idolatress, 
caused the blood of the prophets to be shed, and Naboth 
to be martyred unjustly, for his own vineyard. But I 
think she never erected half so many gallows in all Israel 
as Mary hath done in London alone." Bishop Gardiner 
had publicly advised the queen to proceed rigorously, in a 
sermon he preached before her on the preceding Sunday. 

Such was the life and death of lady Jane Grey. It 
afibrds a pleasing proof that the doctrines of the gospel 
can support in the time of trial, and the hour of death. 
These doctrines were set forth in the English reformation. 
Although not condemned as a heretic, she was a protestant, 
a follower of Christ, and a martyr to the cause of truth. 
As such, " the precious remains of lady Jane Grey" claim 
a place among the writings of the British Reformers. The 
principal pieces appeared in a printed form within a few 
months of her decease. They were also inserted by Fox 
in his Acts and Monuments. The letter to queen Mary is 
an important document respecting the British Reformers, 
as the contents plainly show that the proceedings which 
led to lady Jane's brief pageant of royalty, originated 
entirely from the political motives of her relatives, and 
that none of the protestant clergy were active in devising 
or promoting those measures. 



290 



h 




A 
BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF 

DR. HUGH LATIMER, 

Bishop of Worcester, and Martyr, 1555. 

Dr. Hugh Latimer was the son of a respectable farmer of 
Thurcaster in Leicestershire. He was born about the year 
1480, and at an early age gave evidence of good abilities, so 
that his parents sent him to school, and afterwards to the 
University of Cambridge, where he was distinguished for his 
diligence in study. 

When ordained, he endeavoured to discharge his duties with 
much zeal ; as he afterwards expressed, " I remember how 
scrupulous I was in my time of blindness and ignorance ;" and 
he once had the intention of becoming a friar, thinking that by 
living a monastic life he should escape damnation. Fox adds 
"In this blind zeal he was a very enemy to the professors of 
Christ s gospel, as his oration against Philip Melancthon and 
his other works plainly declared." He used publicly to contra- 
dict Stafford, the lecturer in divinity at Cambridge, a follower 
of the truth, and exhorted the students not to believe the doc- 
trines of the gospel taught in his lectures. This zeal had 
obtained for Latimer the approbation of his superiors, and he 
was appointed the cross-bearer to the university ; whose office 
it was to carry the cross in the popish processions so frequent 
in those days. 

But the time for his conversion was at hand. Bilney heard 
Latimer's oration against Melancthon, and pitying his blind- 
ness, was anxious that this zealous but ignorant brother should 
be brought to the true knowledge of Christ. With this view 
Bilney went to Latimer's study, and entreated him to hear 
his confession. In this, the former took the opportunity to 

(1) 



2 Latimer, 

make a particular declaration of his faith, and the scriptural 
grounds upon which it was founded ; " at the hearing whereof," 
says Fox, " Latimer was, through the good Spirit of God, so 
touched, that he forsook his former studying of the school 
doctors, and other such fopperies, and became an earnest stu- 
dent of true divinity, so that, whereas before he was an enemy 
and almost a persecutor of Christ, he was now a zealous seeker 
after him." 

Latimer thus became an earnest preacher of the faith which 
he once opposed, and instructed both the students and the 
common people in the truths of the gospel, as he could find 
opportunity. The Romish ecclesiastics now persecuted him 
and he was accused of heretical opinions before Cardinal 
Wolsey, who examined Latimer, but not finding him an igno- 
rant character, as he had been represented to be, the cardinal 
gave him a general license to preach, instead of silencing 
him, as his adversaries had expected. 

When King Henry VIIL began to throw off the shackles 
of the papacy, Latimer, as well as other favourers of the refor- 
mation, was called into notice. He resided in London for some 
time, and preached repeatedly with much acceptance. What- 
ever were Henry's faults, he never objected to honest plain 
dealing, and Latimer, never shrunk from reproving what he 
considered to be wrong. A valuable instance of this is pre- 
served in Latimer's letter to the king, against a proclamation 
which forbad the use of the Scriptures and religious books in 
the English language, and which was afterwards recalled. 
About the year 1531 he was appointed to the living of West 
Kington, in the county of Wilts, to which place he immediate- 
ly went, preferring the discharge of his pastoral duties to re- 
maining at court. In this cure his diligence was so great and 
his preaching so successful, that the adversaries of the truth 
again sought to bring him into trouble. The accusations 
against him were founded upon his disregard of some popish 
superstitions, especially with respect to purgatory, and are 
noticed particularly in his letters to M. Morice and Sir E. 
Baynton. Being cited before the archbishop of Canterbury 
and the bishop of London in 1532, articles were presented to 
Latimer, which he was required to subscribe ; but, by the inter- 
ference of the king, he was dismissed after a partial submission 
and apology for his opinions. He returned to the faithful dis- 



\ 



Life. * 3 

charge of his parochial duties, and in the year 1535 was ap- 
pointed to the bishopric of Worcester. 

In this new charge Latimer acted with the same zeal and 
integrity as formerly, and promoted the reformation to the 
utmost of his ability. In particular, he laboured to remove the 
superstitious ceremonies which remained, or at least to point 
out Christ as the only object of adoration. Thus, in distribu- 
ting the holy bread, the ministers were to say, " Of Christ's 
body this is a token — Which on the cross for our sins was bro- 
ken ; — Wherefore of your sins you must be fbrsakers — If of 
Christ's death ye will be partakers." A considerable part of 
the year he spent in visiting the different parts of his diocese 
preaching twice every Lord's day, and whenever opportunity 
occurred, on the week days. The evil designs of his adversa- 
ries were repeatedly baffled by his honesty and courage. One 
time in particular he was accused before the king for a sermon 
which he had preached at court, and his open testimony against 
the vices and evil deeds of the times was stigmatized as sedi- 
tious. Henry sternly required Latimer to ansv/er this accusa- 
tion, and his noble reply to the king has been preserved. After 
calling upon his accuser to say how he ought to have preached, 
he turned to the king, and declaring his respect for his majesty, 
added, "I never thought myself worthy, nor did I ever sue, 
to be a preacher before your Grace, but I was called to it, and 
am willing, if you mislike me, to give place to my betters ; for 
I grant there are a great many more worthy than I am : and if 
it be your Grace's pleasure so to allow them for preachers, I 
could be content to bear their books after them ; but if your 
Grace allow me for a preacher, I would desire your Grace to 
give me leave to discharge my conscience, and give me leave 
to frame my doctrine according to my audience. I had been a 
very dolt to have preached so at the borders of your realm as I 
preach before your Grace." Let it be observed how Latimer 
made this difference in his preaching — not flattering men to 
their faces, and reproving them when absent, but honestly and 
faithfully bearing his testimony as a messenger from God unto 
them. In the same spirit, one New Year's day, when the 
courtiers were presenting costly articles to the king, according 
to the custom of those times, Latimer presented an English 
New Testament, folded down at the text, " Whoremongers 
and adulterers God will judge." This anecdote sufficiently 



4 Latimer. 

proves that Latimer was ill qualified to shine as a courtier. 
In fact, he studiously avoided meddling with public affairs, but 
was active in promoting the spiritual interests of the nation ; 
and with that desire he preached the sermon at the commence- 
ment of the convocation of 1536. One beneficial result from 
the debates of that assembly, was the authorized publication 
of the Bible in the English language. 

In the year 1539, Gardiner and other popish ecclesiastics 
gained considerable influence over the king's mind, and the 
act of Six Articles was passed, which restored some of the 
leading points of popery. Upon this Latimer resigned his 
bishopric, and with much cheerfulness returned to private life ; 
he was, however, committed to the Tower at the instigation 
of bishop Gardiner, and although the king did not allow his 
enemies to proceed against him to the full extent which they 
desired, he w^as kept a prisoner during the remaining six 
years of that reign. 

On the accession of Edward VI. Latimer was set at liber- 
ty. He was pressed to resume his bishopric, but declined 
again undertaking that charge, on account of his age and in- 
firmities which, however, did not prevent him fi*om diligently 
pursuing his studies, for which purpose he used to rise at two 
o'clock in the morning. He also constantly preached the 
gospel, both at court and in various parts of the country. 
His chief residence during this period was with Cranmer at 
Lambeth, where many came to him for advice under sufferings 
and wrongs of a temporal nature, as well as for spiritual advice. 
A striking instance of the latter we have in the case of John 
Bradford, who, in his letters to Father Traves, repeatedly men- 
tions having resorted to Latinier for counsel ; and the extent 
to which his assistance was sought, as to the former, is described 
by himself in one of his sermons before the king and the court. 
" I cannot go to my book," says he, " for poor folks who come 
to me, desiring me that I will speak, that their matters may be 
heard." The deplorable state of the administration of justice in 
those times, is often severely animadverted upon in his sermons. 

Fox thus describes the labours of Latimer during this reign : 
" As the diligence of this man of God never ceased, all the 
time of King Edward, to profit the church, both publicly and 
privately ; so among other doings in him to be noted, this is not 
lightly to be overpassed, but worthy to be observed, that God 



Life. 5 

not only gave unto him his Spirit, plenteously and comfortably 
to preach his word unto his church, but also by the same Spirit 
he did evidently foreshow and prophesy of all those kinds of 
plagues which afterwards ensued. And as touching himself, 
he ever affirmed that the preaching of the gospel would cost 
him his life ; to which he cheerfully prepared himself, and felt 
certainly persuaded that Winchester (bishop Gardiner) was 
kept in the Tower for that purpose, as the event too truly 
proved." 

When Queen Mary succeeded to the throne, Latimer was 
in the neighborhood of Coventry, and the council sent a ci- 
tation for him to appear before them. The purpose of this 
summons was evident, and John Careless, a protestant weaver 
of that city, who afterwards died in prison for the truth, hasten- 
ed to give Latimer information of the officer's approach. The 
venerable martyr thus had six hours' notice, during which he 
might have escaped, and even afterwards he had still further 
opportunities, for the officer only left the summons, and did 
not take his person. It is probable that the counsellors of the 
queen rather wished to drive the aged Latimer from the realm, 
than to exhibit him to the people as suffering for the truth. 
As Fox observes, " They well knew his constancy would de- 
face their popery, and confirm the godly in the truth." 

But Latimer felt that after the public and decided testimony 
he had given to the truths of the gospel, it was his duty not 
to shrink from suffering for them ; and his age and infirmities 
gave him no opportunity of serving his Lord and Master in 
any other way so likely to be profitable to the souls of others. 
He was fully av/are of the fate prepared for him ; and as he 
passed through Smithfield, on his arrival in London, he said, 
" that place had long groaned for him," expecting to be com- 
mitted to the flames where so many had been burned in pre- 
vious years. With the same constancy and cheerfulness of 
spirit, when again imprisoned in the Tower, and the winter 
came on, he told the Lieutenant,' that "unless they allowed 
him fire, he should deceive them ; for they purposed to burn 
him, but he should be starved with cold." 

As the number of prisoners increased, Cranmer, Ridley, and 
Bradford were confined in the same apartment with Latimer. 
The benefit derived from their conferences he mentioned in his 
protestation presented to the popish delegates at Oxford, which 

LATIMER 2 



6 Latimer, 

will be found in a subsequent part of this volume. In April, 
1554, the three bishops were removed to Oxford, where they 
were appointed to dispute in public respecting the sacrament. 
A full account of what passed was drawn up by bishop Ridley, 
and is inserted by Fox in the Acts and Monuments. When 
the Romanists pressed their scholastic distinctions and argu- 
ments from the Fathers upon Latimer, he at once told them 
that such allegations had no effect upon him, that the Fathers 
often were deceived, and he saw no reason to depend upon 
them, excepting when they depended upon scripture. After 
these disputations, Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer were con- 
demned, and kept in prison for many months, during which 
time they occupied themselves in conferences on religious 
subjects, in fervent prayer, or in writing for the instruction 
and support of their brethren. Fox states, " M. Latimer, by 
reason of the feebleness of his age, wrote least of them all in 
this latter time of his imprisonment ; yet in prayer he was 
fervently occupied, wherein oftentimes he continued so long 
kneeling, that he was not able to rise without help." The 
principal subjects of his prayers are related by Fox, and were 
as follows : 

Firsts That as God had appointed him to be a preacher of his 
word, so also he would give him grace to stand to his doctrine 
until his death, that he might give his heart's blood for the 
same. Secondly^ That God of his mercy would restore his 
gospel to England again, and these words, " once again, once 
again," he did so repeat as though he had seen God before him, 
and spoke to him face to face. The third matter was to pray 
for the preservation of the Queen's majesty, that now is, (Queen 
Elizabeth,) whom in his prayers he was wont to name, and en- 
treated that she might be made a comfort to the then comfort- 
less realm of England." These were prayers of faith, and, as 
such, were not offered in vain. 

On the 30th of September, 1555, Ridley and Latimer were 
brought before the commissioners appointed by the pope to 
examine and condemn them. Latimer's appearance is thus 
described: " He held his hat in his hand, having a kerchief on 
his head, and upon it a night cap or two, and a great cap, such 
as townsmen use, with two broad flaps to button under the chin, 
wearing an old threadbare Bristol frieze gown, girded to his 
body with a penny leathern girdle, at which his testament hung 
by a string of leather, and his spectacles without case depend- 



Life. 1 

mg about his neck upon his breast." The popish ecclesiastics 
exhorted him to recant, which he refused, and met their ar- 
guments by reference to the word of God. Tliey accused him 
of want of learning, on which he emphatically replied, " Lo, 
you look for learning at my hands, who have gone so long to 
the school of oblivion, making the bare walls my library, keep- 
ing me so long in prison without book, or pen and ink, and now 
you let me loose to come and answer to articles ! You deal 
with me as though two were appointed to fight for life and 
death ; and over-night the one, through friends and favour, is 
cherished, and hath good counsel given him how to encounter 
with his enemy ; the other, for envy or lack of friends, all the 
whole night is set in the stocks. In the morning, when they 
shall meet, the one is in strength and lusty, the other is stark* 
of his limbs, and almost dead for feebleness. Think you that to 
run this man through with a spear is a goodly victory]" 

This is but too correct a representation of the manner in 
which these examinations were conducted, and it is unnecessary 
to enter into further details respecting them. We now proceed 
to the account of Latimer's last sufferings, as recorded by Fox. 

On the morning of October 16th, 1555, Latimer and Ridley 
were led to the place prepared for their burning, in the front of 
Baliol College at Oxford. They kneeled down, and prayed 
separately, and afterwards conversed together. A sermon was 
then preached, in which their doctrines and their characters 
were aspersed, but they were not suffered to reply. " Well," 
said Latimer, "there is nothing hid but it shall be opened." 
The jailer then took off their upper clothes, to prepare them 
for the stake, when it was seen that Latimer had put on a 
shroud as his under-garment ; and although he had appeared a 
withered old man, his body crazed and bent under the weight 
of years, he now " stood upright, as comely a father as one 
might any where behold." 

All being prepared, a lighted fagot was brought and laid at 
Ridley's feet. Latimer then turned, and addressed his fellow- 
sufferer in these memorable and emphatic words : " Be of good 
comfort. Master Ridley, and play the man; we shall this 

DAY LIGHT SUCH A CANDLE, BY GOd's GRACE, IN ENGLAND, 

AS I TRUST SHALL NEVER BE PUT OUT." The fire bumod fiercely ; 

* Stiff. 



8 



Latimer, 



Ridley suffered much with great constancy, but Latimer was 
soon delivered. He exclaimed aloud, " O Father of heaven, 
receive my soul." Bending towards the flames, he seemed 
to embrace them, and bathe his hands therein, and speedily 
departed. When the fire was burned low, and the spectators 
crowded round the dying embers, they beheld his heart uncon- 
sumed, and a quantity of blood gushed from it, reminding them of 
his prayer already mentioned. He had indeed shed his heart's 
blood as a testimony to the truth of the doctrines he had preached. 

This awful testimony to the truth was not fruitless. Julius 
Palmer, a Fellow of Magdalen College, was present ; he had 
been a bigoted papist, but his mind was excited to examine 
into the doctrines held by those who suffered, that he might 
ascertain what enabled them to undergo such cruel torments 
unmoved. He was present at the examinations and the burn- 
ing of Ridley and Latimer, and their Christian fortitude was 
made the means of dispelling his prejudices. He shortly afler 
himself suffered for the truth, but had been enabled to count 
the cost, and before the hour of suffering arrived, he declared, 
*' Indeed it is a hard matter for them to burn that have the mind 
and soul linked to the body, as a thief's foot is tied in a pair of 
fetters ; but if a man be once able, through the help of God's 
Spirit, to separate and divide the soul from the body, for him it 
is no more difficulty to burn, than for me to eat this piece of 
bread." There also is reason to believe that the sufferings of 
Latimer and Ridley, and of otlier martyrs, were made useful 
to one at least of the Spanish ecclesiastics who were at that 
time in England. 

The distinguishing characteristic of Latimer was sincerity, or 
faithful zeal for the truth; — in a follower of Christ these quali- 
ties are inseparable. They were especially displayed in his 
sermons, and the attention of his auditors was fixed by the lively 
and cheerful style in which he delivered the truths of the gos- 
pel, and reproved the evil practices of men. When preaching, 
he frequently introduced anecdotes and detailed statements, in 
a manner which would appear singular in a modern preacher; 
but this is to be accounted for by the customs of the times in 
which he lived, and his anxiety to avail himself of the oppor- 
tunities for usefulness so peculiarly presented to him. Many 
of these illustrations seem harsh to modern ears, but they were 
well suited to make an impression upon minds almost wholly 



Life. 9 

unacquainted with the Scriptures ; and this ignorance was so 
general in that day, that it sufficiently accounts for his minute- 
ness in detailing the events of sacred history. 

To the anecdotes and particulars of the customs and manners 
of those times, much of the popularity of Latimer's Sermons in 
later days, may probably be attributed ; but the present selec- 
tion has been made with the view of presenting to the reader 
his doctrinal sentiments, as a main pillar of the reformation, 
rather than to exhibit historical details of the times in which he 
lived, and it is chiefly composed of the sermons which were 
preserved by his faithful attendant and follower Augustine 
Bernher. The limits of the present work required selection; 
it has been made with a desire for the edification of the follower 
of gospel truth, though it contains much for the instruction and 
information of the general reader. 

The preaching of Latimer has been thus described : " The 
method and course of his doctrine was, to set the law of Moses 
before the eyes of the people in all the severities and curses of 
it, thereby to put them the more in fear of sin, and to beat 
down their confidence in their own performances, and so to 
bring them to Christ, convincing them thereby of their need 
of him, and of flying to him by an evangelical faith. He could 
not bear that such as were hastening to heaven should be detain- 
ed by the way by thieves and robbers, as he expressed it ; that 
is, to be cast into the pope's prison of purgatory, to be torment- 
ed, and never allowed to depart thence unless money were paid 
fo the robbers. He spoke against the opinion of obtaining par- 
don of sin, and salvation, by singing masses and wearing monks' 
cowls. He taught, on the contrary, that Christ alone was the 
author of salvation, and that he, by the one only oblation of his 
body, sanctified for ever all those that believe — that to him was 
given the key of David, and that he opened, and none could shut, 
and that he shut, and none could open. He preached how God 
loved the w^orld, and so loved it, that he delivered his only Son 
to be slain, that all who from thenceforth believed in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life ; that he was a propitiation 
for our sins, and therefore upon him alone we must cast all our 
hopes, and that however men were laden with sins, they should 
never perish to whom he reckoned not sin, and that none of 
them should fail that believed in him." These were the spirit- 
ual and sound contents of Latimer's sermons, and this is the ac- 

2* 



10 Latimer. 

count of a learned man, Sir R. Morryson, who lived in those 
days, and asks, " Did there ever any man flourish, I say not in 
England only, but in any nation of the world, since the apostles, 
who preached the gospel more sincerely, purely, and honestly, 
than Hugh Latimer, bishop of Worcester ]" {See Strype.) 

The letters and smaller pieces of Latimer have not before 
been presented to the public in an accessible form : they will be 
found equally deserving of attention with his sermons ; they ex- 
hibit the true character of this venerable saint. The whole 
of his writings show his conformity in principles and opinions 
with the other reformers, both British and foreign. They 
may have expressed various doctrines with different degrees of 
strength, but modern writers exercise ingenuity in vain when 
they attempt to show that in their sentiments they were op- 
posed to each other. 

Latimer preached with much force and eloquence, ample tra- 
ces of which remain, although in writing they must appear much 
feebler than when spoken. It is evident that he spoke from 
the heart, and his words, we may conclude, by the divine bless- 
ing, in many instances went to the heart. Like Paul, he preach- 
ed the faith which once he destroyed. Concerning zeal, he had 
persecuted the church, and touching the righteousness which 
was by the law, he was blameless; but the things which were 
gain to him he counted loss for Christ. 



A 

BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF 

DR. JOHN HOOPER, 

Bishop of Gloucester, and Martyr, 1555. 



John Hooper was born in Somersetshire, a. d. 1495, and 
entered at Merton college, Oxford, in 1514. It is thought that 
he afterwards became a Cistercian monk, but disliking the 
monastic life, he returned to Oxford, where, by the study of the 
scriptures, and the perusal of the writings of some of the con- 
tinental reformers, he was induced to forsake the doctrines of 
popery. In a letter written by him to Bullinger, an extract from 
which has been preserved by Hottinger, he states, that some 
^vorks of Zuinglius, and BuUinger's commentaries on the epis- 
tles of St. Paul, were principally instrumental to his conver- 
sion ; these he studied day and night. 

In the year 1539, when the act of the six articles was en- 
forced. Hooper withdrew to the continent, and at Zurich was 
kindly received by Bullinger. On the accession of king Edward 
VI., Hooper, who had married while abroad, returned to 
England with a desire to assist in the good work then going 
forward. He had a presentiment of the times which followed ; 
for on taking leave of Bullinger, when that reformer desired 
him to write to his friends in Switzerland, and not to forget 
them when raised to wealth and honours, Hooper assured him 
of his affectionate remembrance, adding, " I will write to you 
how it goeth with me. But the last news of all I shall not be 
able to write ; for there (said he, taking Master Bullinger by 
the hand) where I shall take most pains, there shall you hear 
of my being burned to ashes ; and that shall be the last news, 
which I shall not be able to write unto you, but you shall hear 
it of me." 



2 Hooper, 

He returned to England in 1548, and preached for some time 
in London, oflen twice, and never less than once a day. Fox 
says, " In his sermons, according to his accustomed manner, 
he corrected sin, and sharply inveighed against the iniquity of 
the world, and the corrupt abuses of the church. The people 
in great flocks and companies came daily to hear him, insomuch 
that oftentimes when he was preaching, the church would be so 
full that none could enter further than the doors. In his doc- 
trine he was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the scriptures per- 
fect, in pains indefatigable." 

In May, 1550, he was nominated to the bishopric of Glou- 
cester, but was not consecrated till the following year. This 
delay was occasioned by some differences relative to the habits 
and oaths then used in the consecration of bishops.* During 
his residence on the continent. Hooper had adopted stricter 
views on these subjects than his brethren who remained at 
home, and he objected to these things as tending to superstition. 
Into the particulars of these differences it is unnecessary for us 
to enter; it is sufficient to state, that although Ridley and 
Cranmer w^ere at variance with Hooper on these points, when 
the day of trouble came, we find them united as brethren in 
Christ. In justice to Ridley and Cranmer, it should also be 
stated, that the laws then in force left them no choice as to the 
course they should follow. The letter written by Ridley to 
Hooper when they were both imprisoned for the truth, shows 
that these things were then forgotten. 

The diocese of Worcester was afterwards united to that of 
Gloucester, and Hooper conducted himself in his charge in the 
most exemplary manner. Fox says, " He employed his time 
with such diligence, as to be a spectacle (or pattern) to all 
bishops. So careful was he in his cure, that he left no pains 
untaken, nor ways unsought, how to train up the flock of 
Christ in the true word of salvation, continually labouring in 
the same. No father in his household, no gardener in his 

* Hooper's objection to tlic oath was because it required him to 
swear by the saints; to this he objected, and the expression was 
struck out. With respect to the liabiis, a compromise was effected. 
To these oatlis and habits lie had objected in his sermons on Jonah, 
before the king; and we find that in the second service-book, set 
forth in 1551, an aUeration for the better in these respects was 
effected. See a note upon the Sermons on Jonah. 



Life, . 3 

garden, nor husbandman in his vineyard, was more or better 
occupied than he in his diocese amongst his flock, going about 
his towns and villages, in teaching and preaching to the people 
there. Although he bestowed the most part of his care upon 
the public flock and congregation of Christ, for which, also, he 
spent his blood ; yet there lacked no provision in him to bring 
up his own children in learning and good manners ; so that you 
could not discern whether he deserved more praise for his 
fatherly usage at home, or for his bishoplike doings abroad. 
For every where he kept one religion in one uniform doctrine 
and integrity ; so that if you entered into the bishop's palace 
you would suppose you had entered some church or temple. 
In every corner there was some savour of virtue, good example, 
honest conversation, and reading of holy scriptures. There 
was not to be seen in his house any courtly roystering* or idle- 
ness, no pomp at all, no dishonest v/ord, no swearing could 
there be heard. As for the revenues of his bishoprics, he 
pursed nothing, but bestowed it in hospitality. Twice I was 
at his house in Worcester, where in his common hall I saw a 
table spread with good store of meat, and set full of beggars 
and poor folk ; and I asking the servants what this meant, they 
told me, that every day their lord and master's custom was to 
have to dinner a certain number of the poor folk of the city by 
course, who were served with wholesome meats ; and when they 
were served, after having been examined by him or his de- 
puties in the Lord's prayer, the articles of their faith, and ten 
commandments, he himself sat down to dinner, and not before." 
On the accession of queen Mary, bishop Hooper was one of 
the first who were called before the council on account of their 
religion, being summoned to appear on the 22nd of August, 
1553. Bonner and Gardiner were especially violent against 
him. As popery was not then restored by law, he was detained 
on a false plea of his being indebted to the queen. He has left 
the following account of the cruel treatment he experienced in 
the Fleet prison :—'' The first of September, 1553, I was com- 
mitted unto the Fleet from Richmond, to have the liberty of 
the prison : and within six days after I paid for my liberty five 
pounds sterling to the warden's fees ; who, immediately upon 
the payment thereof, complained unto Stephen Gardiner, bishop 
* Turbulent behaviour. 



I 



"* Hooper. 

of Winchester, and so was I committed to close prison for one 
quarter of a year, in the tower-chamber of the Fleet, and used 
very extremely. Tlien, by the means of a good gentleman, I 
had liberty to come down to dinner and supper, yet not suffered 
to speak to any of my friends ; but as soon as dinner and sup- 
per was done, to repair to my chamber again. Notwithstand- 
ing, whilst I came down thus to dinner and supper, the warden 
and his wife picked quarrels with me, and they complained un- ^ 
truly of me to their great friend, the bishop of Winchester. 
After one quarter of a year, and somewhat more, Babington, 
the warden, and his wife, fell out with me for the wicked mass, 
and thereupon the warden resorted to the bishop of Winchester, 
and obtained leave to put me into the wards, where I have con- 
tinued a long time, having nothing appointed to me for my bed 
but a little pad of straw, and a rotten covering, with a tick and 
a few feathers therein, the chamber being vile and stinking, 
until, by God's means, good people sent me bedding to lie in. Of 
the one side of which prison is the sink and filth of the house ; 
and on the other side, the town-ditch ; so that the stench of the 
house hath infected me with sundry diseases. During which 
time I have been sick, and the doors, bars, hasps, and chains, 
being all closed, and made fast upon me, I have mourned, 
called, and cried for help. But the warden, when he hath 
known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men 
of the wards have called to help me, hath commanded the doors 
to be kept fast, and charged that none of his men should come 
at me, saying, * Let him alone, it were a good riddance of him.' 
And amongst many other times, he did thus the 18th of Octo- 
ber, 1558, as many can witness. I paid always like a baron to 
the said warden, as well in fees, as for my board, which was 
twenty shillings a week, besides my man's table, until I was 
wrongfully deprived of my bishopric, and since that I have 
paid him as the best gentleman doth in his house; yet hath he 
used me worse, and more vilely than the veriest slave that ever 
came to the hall commons. The said warden hath also im- 
prisoned my man, William Downton, and stripped him of all 
his clothes to search for letters, and could find none, but only a 
little remembrance of good people's names, that gave me their 
alms to relieve me in prison; and to undo them also the said 
warden delivered the same bill unto the said Stephen Gardiner, 



\ 



Life. 5 

God's enemy and mine. I have suffered imprisonment 
almost eighteen months, my good living, friends, and comforts 
taken from me; the queen owing me, by just account, eighty 
pounds or more. She hath put me in prison, and gives nothing 
to find me, neither is there suffered any to come to me, whereby 
I might have relief. I am with a wicked man and woman, so 
that I see no remedy, saving God's help, but that I shall be 
cast away in prison* before I come to judgment. But I com- 
mit my just cause to God whose will be done, whether it be 
by life or death." 

Fox has given the particulars of bishop Hooper's examinations 
before Gardiner and other popish bishops, in January, 1555. 
He was condemned on three separate grounds: — first, for 
maintaining the lawfulness of the marriage of the clergy ; se- 
condly, for defending the scriptural doctrine respecting divorce 
(Matt, xix.) ; thirdly for denying the carnal presence of Christ 
in the sacrament, and saying that the mass was an idol. After 
his condemnation he was taken by night to Newgate, and de- 
graded by bishop Bonner, and then ordered for execution. 

The particulars of the last days of bishop Hooper's life are 
minutely detailed by Fox. The simple and impressive account 
must be given in his own words. It is, indeed, one of the most 
affecting narratives in English history. He says, " On Monday 
at night, being the 4th of February, 1555, bishop Hooper's 
keeper gave him an intimation that he should be sent to Glou- 
cester to suffer death, whereof he rejoiced very much, lifting 
up his eyes and hands unto heaven, and praising God that he 
saw it good to send him amongst the people over whom he was 
pastor, there to confirm with his death the truth which he had 
before taught them ; not doubting but the Lord would give him 
strength to perform the same to his glory ; and immediately he 
sent to his servant's house for his boots, spurs, and cloak, that 
he might be in readiness to ride when he should be called. 

" The next day following, about four o'clock in the morning, 
before daylight, the keeper with others came to him and 
searched him, and the bed wherein he lay, to see if he had writ- 
ten any thing, and then he was led by the sheriffs of London 
and their officers from Newgate to a place appointed, not far 
from St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street where six of the 

* Perish in prison. ' 

HOOPER, 2 



6 Hooper. 

queen's guard were appointed to receive him, and carry him to 
Gloucester, there to be delivered unto the sheriffs, who with the 
lord Shandois, master Wikes, and other commissioners, were 
appointed to see execution done. The guard brought him to 
the Angel,* where he broke his fast with them, eating his meat 
at that time more liberally than he had used to do a good while 
before. About the break of day he went to horse, and leapt 
cheerfully on horseback without help, having a hood upon his 
head under his hat that he should not be known, and so took his 
journey joyfully towards Gloucester, and by the way the guard 
always learned of him where he was uccustomed to bait or 
lodge, and ever carried him to another inn, 

" Upon the Thursday following, he came to a town in his 
diocese called Cirencester, about eleven o'clock, and there dined 
at a woman's house who had always hated the truth, and spoken 
all the evil she could of Master Hooper. This woman, per- 
ceiving the cause of his coming, showed him all the friendship 
she could, and lamented his case with tears, confessing that she 
before had often reported, that if he were put to the trial, he 
would not stand to his doctrine. 

" After dinner he rode forwards, and came to Gloucester 
about five o'clock ; and a mile without the town much people, 
v/ere assembled, who cried and lamented his state ; so that one 
of the guard rode hastily into the town, to require aid of the 
mayor and sheriffs, fearing lest he should have been taken from 
them. The officers and their retinue repaired to the gate with 
weapons, and commanded the people to keep their houses, but 
there was no man that gave any signification of any such res- 
cue and violence. So he was lodged at one Ingram's house in 
Gloucester, and that night, as he had done all the way, he ate 
his meat quietly, and slept his first sleep soundly. After his 
first sleep he continued all that night in prayer until the morn- 
ing, and then he desired that he might go into the next cham- 
ber, for the guard were also in the chamber where he lay, that 
there being alone he might pray and talk with God : so that the 
whole day, saving a little at meat, and when he talked at any 
time with such as the guard allowed to speak with him, he em- 
ployed in prayer. 

" Amongst others that spake with him. Sir Anthony Kingston, 

* The inn called the Angel, behind St. Clement's church, Strand. 



Life. • 7 

knight, was one, who seeming in times past his very friend, was 
then appointed by the queen's letters to be one of the commis- 
sioners to see execution done upon him. Master Kingston being 
brought into the chamber found him at prayer ; and as soon as 
he saw Master Hooper, he burst forth in tears. Hooper at the 
first knew him not. Then said Master Kingston, ' Why, my 
lord, do you not know me, an old friend of yours, Anthony 
Kingston ]' 

" H. Yes, Master Kingston, I do now know you well, and 
am glad to see you in health, and do praise God for the same. 

" K. But I am sorry to see you in this case ; for, as I under- 
stand, you are come hither to die. But, alas ! consider that life 
is sweet, and death is bitter. Therefore, seeing life may be had, 
desire to live ; for life hereafter may do good. 

" H. Indeed it is true, Master Kingston, I am come hither to 
end this life, and to suffer death here, because I will not gain- 
say the truth that I have taught amongst you in this diocese, 
and elsewhere ; and I thank you for your friendly counsel 
although it be not so friendly as I could have wished it. True 
it is. Master Kingston, that death is bitter, and life is sweet ; 
but, alas ! consider that death to come is more bitter, and the 
life to come is more sweet. Therefore, for the desire and love I 
have to the one, and the terror and fear of the other, I do not so 
much regard this death, nor esteem this life, but have settled 
myself, through the strength of God's Holy Spirit, patiently to 
pass through the torments and extremities of the fire now pre- 
pared for me, rather than to deny the truth of his word, de- 
siring you and others, in the mean time, to commend me to 
God's mercy in your prayers. 

" K. Well, my lord, then I perceive there is no remedy, and, 
therefore, I will take my leave of you ; and I thank God that 
ever J knew you, for God did appoint you to call me, being a 
lost child ; and by your good instructions, whereas before I was 
both an adulterer and a fornicator, God hath brought me to for- 
sake and detest the same. 

" H. If you have had the grace so to do, I do highly praise 
God for it ; and if you have not, I pray God you may have it, 
and that you may continually live in his fear. 

" Afler these and many other words, the one took leave of 
the other; Master Kingston with bitter tears, Master Hooper 



8 Hooper, 

with tears also trickling down his cheeks. At which departure 
Master Hooper told him, that all the troubles he had sustained 
in prison had not caused him to utter so much sorrow. 

" The same day in the afternoon, a blind boy, after long in- 
tercession made to the guard, obtained license to be brought 
unto Master Hooper's speech. The same boy not long before 
had suffered imprisonment at Gloucester for confessing the 
truth. Master Hooper, after he had examined him of his faith, 
and the cause of his imprisonment, beheld him steadfastly, and 
with tears in his eyes, said unto him, ' Ah, poor boy, God hath 
taken from thee thy outward sight, for what consideration he 
best knoweth ; but he hath given thee another sight much more 
precious, for he hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge 
and faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto him, 
that thou lose not that sight, for then shouldest thou be blind 
both in body and soul.'* 

" Aft,er that another came to him, whom he knew to be a 
very papist and a wicked man, who appeared to be sorry for 
Master Hooper's trouble, saying, ' Sir, I am sorry to see you 
tlms.' 

*' ' To see me 1 why art thou sorry ]' said he. 

" ' To see you,' saith the other, ' in this case. For I hear 
say you are come hither to die, for which I am sorry.' 

" ' Be sorry for thyself, man,' said Master Hooper, ' and 
lament thine own wickedness; for I am well, I thank God, and 
death to me, for Christ's sake is welcome.' 

" The same night he was committed by the guard, their 
commission being then expired, unto the custody of the sheriffs 
of Gloucester. The name of the one was Jenkins, the other 
Bond, who with the mayor and aldermen repaired to Master 
Hooper's lodgings, and at the first meeting saluted him, and 
took him by the hand. Unto whom Hooper spake on this 
manner : 

" * Master mayor, I give most hearty thanks to you, and to 
the rest of your brethren, that you have vouchsafed to take me 
a prisoner and a condemned man by the hand ; whereby, to my 
rejoicing, it is apparent that your old love and friendship 

* The martyr's prayer for this poor blind boy was heard. His 
name was Drowry, and he was enabled to continue steadfast in the 
truth. In May, 1556, he was burned. 



Life. 9 

towards me are not altogether extinguished : and I trust also 
that all the things I have taught you in times past are not utterly 
forgotten, when I was here, by the good king that is dead, ap- 
pointed to be your bishop and pastor. For which true and sin- 
cere doctrine, because I will not now account it falsehood and 
heresy, as many other men do, I am sent hither, as I am sure 
you know, by the queen' s commandment, to die, and am come 
where I taught it, to confirm it with my blood. And now, 
master sheriffs, I understand by these good men, and my very 
friends (meaning the guards), — at whose hands I have found as 
much favour and gentleness by the way hither ward, as a pri- 
soner could reasonably require, for the which I most heartily 
thank them, — that I am committed to your custody, as unto them 
that must see me brought to-morrow to the place of execution. 
My request to you shall be only, that there may be a quick fire, 
shortly to make an end, and in the mean time I will be as obe- 
dient to you, as yourselves would wish. If you think I do 
amiss in any thing, hold up your finger, and I have done. For 
I am not come hither as one enforced or compelled to die ; for it 
is well known I might have had my life with worldly gain ; but as 
one willing to offer and give my life for the truth, rather than to 
consent to the wicked papistical religion of the bishop of Rome,^ 
received and set forth by the magistrates in England, to God's 
high displeasure and dishonour ; and I trust, by God's grace, 
to-morrow to die a faithful servant of God, and a true obedient 
subject to the queen.' 

" These and such like words in effect used Master Hooper to 
the mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen, whereat many of them 
mourned and lamented. Notwithstanding, the two sheriffs 
went aside to consult, and were determined to have lodged him 
in the common jail of the town called Northgate, if the guard 
had not made earnest intercession for him ; declaring how 
quietly, mildly, and patiently he behaved himself in the way, 
adding thereto, that any child might keep him well enough, and 
that they themselves would rather take pains to watch with him, 
than that he should be sent to the common prison. So it was 
determined at length that he should still remain in Robert 
Ingram's liouse; and the sheriffs and the sergeants and other 
oflicers appointed to watch with him that night themselves. 
His desire was, that he might go that night to bed betimes, 



10 Hooper, 

saying, that he had many things to remember : and did so at 
five of the clock, and slept one sleep soundly, and bestowed the 
rest of the night in prayer. After he got up in the morning, he 
desired that no man should be suffered to come into the cham- 
ber, that he might be alone till the hour of execution. 

" About eight o'clock came sir John Bridges, lord Shandois, 
with a great band of men, sir Anthony Kingston, sir Edmund 
Bridges, and other commissioners, appointed to see execution 
done. At nine o'clock Master Hooper was willed to prepare 
himself to be in readiness, for the time was at hand. Immedi- 
ately he was brought down from his chamber by the sheriffs, 
who were accompanied with bills and other weapons. When 
he saw the multitude of weapons, he said, 'Master sheriffs, I 
am no traitor, neither need you have made such a business to. 
bring me to the place where I must suffer ; for if you had willed 
me, I would have gone alone to the stake, and have troubled 
none of you all.' 

" Afterwards, looking upon the multitude of people that were 
assembled, being by estimation to the number of seven thou- 
sand, for it was market-day, and many also came to see his 
behaviour towards death ; he spake unto those that were about 
him, saying, ' Alas! why are tliese people assembled and come 
together] Peradventure, they think to hear something of me 
now, as they have in times past, but, alas ! speech is prohibited 
me.* Notwithstanding, the cause of my death is well known 
unto them. When I was appointed to be their pastor, I 
preached unto them true and sincere doctrine out of the word 
of God. Because I will not now account the same to be heresy 
and untruth, this kind of deatli is prepared for me. 

" So he went forward, led between the two sheriffs, as it were 
a lamb to the slaughter, in a gown of his host's, his hat upon 
his head, and a staff in his hand to stay himself withal. For 
the grief of the sciatica, which he had taken in prison, caused 
liim somewhat to halt. All the way being strictly cliarged not 
to speak, he could not be perceived once to open his mouth ; 
but beholding the people, who mourned bitterly for him, he 

* The Romish prelates had tlireatencd Hooper and his com- 
panions, that their tongues should be cut out, unless they promised 
not to address the people at the stake. 'J'he queen's letter directing 
the manner of his execution expressly ordered that he should not 
be suffered to speak. — See Burnet. 



Life. • 11 

would sometimes lift up his eyes toward heaven, and look 
very cheerfully upon such as he knew; and he was never 
known, during the time of his being amongst them, to look 
with so cheerful and ruddy a countenance as he did at that 
present. 

"When he came to the place appointed where he should die, 
smiling he beheld the stake and preparation made for him, 
which was near unto the great elm-tree over against the college 
of priests, where he w^as wont to preach. The place round 
about the houses and the boughs of the trees were crowded with 
people; and in the chq,mber over the college-gate stood the 
priests of the college. Then kneeled he down to prayer, for- 
asmuch as he could not be suffered to speak unto the people, 
and beckoned six or seven times unto one whom he knew" well, 
to hear the said prayer, to make report thereof in time to come, 
pouring tears upon his shoulders and in his bosom, who gave 
attentive ears unto the same ; which prayer he made upon the 
whole creed, wherein he continued the space of half an hour. 
Now, after he was somewhat entered into his prayer, a box 
was brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his pardon, 
or at the least it was feigned to be his pardon, from the queen, 
if he would turn. At the sight whereof he cried, * If you love 
my soul, away with it.' The box being taken away, the lord 
Shandois said, ' Seeing there is no remedy, despatch him 
quickly.' Master Hooper said, ' Good, my lord, I trust your 
lordship will give me leave to make an end of my prayers.' 

"Then, said the lord Shandois to sir Edmund Bridges's 
son, who gave ear to Master Hooper's prayer at his request : 
* Edmund, take heed that he do nothing else but pray : if he 
do, tell me, and I shall quickly despatch him.' While this talk 
was, there stepped forward one or two uncalled, who heard 
him speak these words following : — 

" * Lord, I am hell, but thou art heaven : I am a swill, and 
a sink of sin, but thou art a gracious God and a merciful Re- 
deemer. Have mercy, therefore, upon me, most miserable and 
wretched offender, after thy great mercy, and according to 
thine inestimable goodness. Thou art ascended into heaven ; 
receive me to be partaker of thy joys, where thou sittest in 
equal glory with thy Father. For well thou knowest, Lord, 
wJierefore I am come hither to suffer, and why the wicked do 



12 Hooper. 

persecute this thy poor servant: not for my sins and trans- 
gressions committed against thee, but because I will not allow 
their wicked doings, to the contaminating of thy blood, and to 
the denial of the knowledge of thy truth, wherewith it did 
please thee by thy Holy Spirit to instruct me : the which, with 
as much diligence as a poor wretch might, being thereto called, 
I have set forth to thy glory. And well seest thou, my Lord and 
God, what terrible pains and cruel torments are prepared for 
thy creature ; such, Lord, as without thy strength none is able 
to bear or patiently to pass. But all things that are impossible 
with man, are possible with thee. Therefore, strengthen me of 
thy goodness, that in the fire I break not the rule of patience ; 
or else assuage the terror of the pains, as shall seem most to 
thy glory.' 

" When the mayor had espied these men they were com- 
manded away, and were not suffered to hear any more. Prayer 
being done, he prepared himself for the stake, and put off his 
host's gown, and delivered it to the sheriffs, requiring them to see 
it restored unto the owner, and put off the rest of his clothing, 
unto his doublet and hose, wherein he would have been burned. 
But the sheriffs would not permit that, such was their greedi- 
ness, unto whose pleasures he very obediently submitted him- 
self: and his doublet, hose, and waistcoat were taken off. 
Then being in his shirt, he took a point from his hose himself, 
and tied his shirt between his legs, where he had a pound of 
gunpowder in a bladder, and under each arm the like quantity, 
delivered him by the guard. So desiring the people to say the 
Lord's prayer with him, and to pray for him, who performed it 
with tears during the time of his pains, he went up to the 
stake. 

" Now when he was at the stake, three irons, made to bind 
him to the stake, were brought; one for his neck, another for 
his middle, and the third for his legs. But he refusing them, 
said, * You have no need thus to trouble yourselves. For I 
doubt not but God will give me strength sufficient to abide the 
extremity of the fire without bands; notwithstanding, suspect- 
ing the frailty and weakness of the flesh, though I have as- 
sured confidence in God's strength, I am content that you do 
as you shall think good.' 

*' So the hoop of iron, prepared for his middle, was brought, 



Life, • 13 

which being made somewhat too short, for his belly was swollen 
with imprisonment, he shrank, and put in his belly with his hand, 
until it was fastened : and when they offered to have bound his 
neck and legs with the other two hoops of iron, he utterly re- 
fused them, and would have none, saying, ' I am well assured 
I shall not trouble you.' 

" Thus, being ready, he looked upon the people, of whom he 
might be well seen, for he w^as both tall, and stood also on a 
high stool, and beheld round about him : and in every corner 
there was nothing to be seen but weeping and sorrowful people. 
Then lifting up his eyes and hands unto heaven, he prayed to 
himself By and by he that was appointed to make the fire 
came to him, and did ask him forgiveness. He asked * why he 
should forgive him, saying, that he never knew any offence he 
had committed against him.' — * O ! sir,' said the man, ' I am 
appointed to make the fire.' — ' Therein,' said Master Hooper, 
* thou dost nothing offend me ; God forgive thee thy sins, and 
do thine office, I pray thee.' Then the reeds were cast up, and 
he received two bundles of them in his own hands, embraced 
them, kissed them, and put under either arm one of them, and 
showed with his hand how the rest should be placed. 

" Commandment was then given that the fire should be set 
to, and so it was : but because there were as many green fagots 
as two horses could carry upon their backs,* it kindled not 
readily, and was a while also before it took the reeds upon 
the fagots. At length it burned about him but the wind having 
strength in that place— it was also a lowering and cold morning, it 
blew the flames from him, so that he was in a manner but 
touched by the fire. 

" Sometime afler, a few dry fagots were brought, and a new 
fire was kindled with fagots, for there were no more reeds, and 
that burnt his lower parts, but had small power above, because 
of the wind, saving that it did burn his hair, and scorched his 
skin a little. In the time of this fire, even as at the first flame, 
he prayed, saying mildly, and not very loud, but as one without 
pain, * Oh Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me, and re- 
ceive my soul.' Afler the second fire was spent, he wiped his 
eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said with a 

* There is reason to believe that the use of green fagots was ordered 
on this and some other occasions, to make the sufferings of the martyers 
more severe and terrif>'ing to the people. 



w 



14 Hooper, — Life, 

loud voice, * For God's love, good people, let me have more 
fire.' And all this while his lower parts did burn ; but the 
fagots were so few that the flames did not burn strongly at his 
upper parts. 

" A third fire was kindled within a while after, which was 
more extreme than the others : and then the bladders of gun- 
powder brake, which did him small good, they were so placed, 
and the wind had such power. In this fire he prayed with 
somewhat a loud voice ; ' Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me : 
Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me : Lord Jesus, receive my 
spirit.' And these were the last words he was heard to utter. 
But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue swollen, 
that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk 
to the gums : and he knocked his breast with his hands until 
one of his arms fell off", and then knocked with the other, until, 
by renewing of the fire, his strength was gone, and his hand did 
cleave fast in knocking, to the iron upon his breast. So imme- 
diately, bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit. 

" Thus was he three quarters of an hour or more in the fire. 
Even as a lamb, patiently he bore the extremity thereof, neither 
moving forwards nor backwards, nor to any side; but having 
his lower part burnt, and his vitals destroyed, he died as quietly 
as a child in its bed ! 

" And now he reigns, as a blessed martyr, in the joys of hea- 
ven, prepared for the faithful in Christ, before the foundations 
of the world : for whose constancy all christians are bound to 
praise God !" 

The works of bishop Hooper are among tlie most valuable of 
the writings of the reformers. They also possess a general in- 
terest, as they are not so exclusively confined to the Romish 
controversies, having mostly been written before his imprison- 
ment. He had derived much advantage from his intercourse 
with the continental reformers, and may be considered as a con- 
necting bond between them and their brethren in England. 
Fox, Burnet, and Strype bear testimony to the value of his 
writings in former times : as lie thereby being dead yet speak- 
eth ; and as his testimony is of Jesus, the same yesterday, to- 
day, and for ever, we may trust that they will be as acceptable 
and beneficial to the follower of Christ, now, as they were in 
the days of our forefathers. 



SOME ACCOUNT 



OF 



THE REV. JOHN BRADFORD, 

Prebendary of St. Paul's, and Martyr, a. d. 1535. 



John Bradford was born at Manchester about the year 1510. 
His parents gave him a good education. He was a hard student 
from his youth, and his skill in accounts procured him employ- 
ment under sir John Harrington, treasurer and paymaster of the 
English forces in France. The abilities he manifested in this 
situation obtained him considerable esteem, and, as Fox ex- 
presses, " he continued certain years in a right honest and good 
trade of life, atler the course of this world, likely to have come 
forward, if his mind could have so liked, or had been given to 
the world as many others." His office he resigned, apparently 
not being willing to connive at some abuses by which the king 
was defrauded to a considerable amount. 

The precise nature of the transaction, and Bradford's share in 
it are not clearly ascertained. His letters to father Traves show . 
that it was some transaction affecting his employer, and that he 
used every means in his power to induce sir John Harrington to 
replace the amount. A letter from father Traves to Bradford, 
(see p. xiv,) confirms this view, that it was a matter affecting 
his master more than himself, although Bradford seems to have 
been concerned in the transaction, and therefore not free from 
blame. That it was no act for his own advantage further appears 
from his answer to Gardiner, when the latter asserted that Brad- 
ford had defrauded his master. In reply, he called upon any one 
to prove this, and desired the lord chancellor, as chief justicer of 
Enofland, to do justice upon them that slandered him. 

But whatever were the circumstances, he could not rest satis- 
fied till restitution was made ; at one time he thought of making 
himself a bondman, and he seems to have sacrificed his patri- 
monial property towards attaining this object, which evidently 
worked most painfully on his mind. This transaction is generally 
supposed to be noticed in one of Latimer's searching sermons. 
The energetic appeals of that powerful preacher might have been 
the means of exciting a right feeling in Bradford, and it ap- 
pears that he conferred with Latimer on the subject. It was not 
finally settled till after he had gone to Cambridge. 

BRADFORD. 2 



X Bradford, — Life, 

Bradford studied the law for a short period, but his heart was 
set upon a more spiritual calling. Fox says, " The Lord which 
had elected him unto a better function, and preordained him to 
preach the gospel of Christ, in that hour of grace, which in his 
secret council he had appointed, called this his chosen child to 
the understanding and partaking of the same gospel of life. In 
which call he was so truly taught, that forthwith his effectual 
call was perceived by the fruits. For then Bradford did forsake 
his worldly affairs and forwardness in worldly wealth, and after 
a just account given to his master of all his doings, he departed 
from him, and with marvellous favour to further the kingdom of 
God by the ministry of his holy word, he gave himself wholly to 
the study of the holy scriptures. The which his purpose to ac- 
complish the better, he departed from the temple at London, 
where the temporal law is studied, and went to the University of 
Cambridge, to learn by God's law how to further the building of 
the Lord's temple. In Cambridge, his diligence in study, his 
profiting in knowledge, and godly conversation, so pleased all 
men, that within one whole year afler he had been there, the 
university gave him a degree. 

*' Immediately afler, ihe master and fellows of Pembroke-hall 
gave him a fellowship in their college ; yea, that man of God, 
Martin Bucer, so liked him that he had him not only most dear 
\mto him, but also oftentimes exhorted him to bestow his talent 
in preaching. Unto which Bradford answered always, that he 
was unable to serve in that office through want of learning. To 
the which Bucer was wont to reply, ' If thou have not fine 
manchet bread,* yet give the poor people barley bread, or what- 
soever else the Lord hath committed unto thee.' And while 
Bradford was thus persuaded to enter into the ministry. Dr. 
Ridley, that worthy bishop of l^ondon, and glorious martyr of 
Christ, according to the order that then was in the church of 
England, called him to take the degree of a deacon. Which 
order because it was not without some abuse, to which Bradford 
would not consent, the bishop yet perceiving that Bradford was 
willinor to enter into the ministry, was content to order him dea- 
con without any abuse, even as he desired. This being done, he 
obtained for him a license to preach, and gave him a prebend in 
his cathedral church of St. Paul's. 

" In this preaching office, by the space of three years, how 
faithfully Bradford walked, how diligently he laboured, many 
parts of England can testify. f Sharply he opened and reproved 

* The best wlicaten bread- 

t Hradford was for some timo one of the six preachers appointed 
by kintj Kdward to itinerate ihrouj^h the kingdom. His letters to 
Can)l)ridge, London, and other places, show the earnestness with 
whirli he had laboured as a preacher. During Lent, in the last year 
of tlic reiicii of Ldward VI., Hradford preached before him, on the 
second psalm. In one of thest^. sermons, he warned his lieurcis that 
the judgments of God were at hand. 



His earnestness in repentance, • xi 

sin, sweetly he preached Christ crucified, pithily he impugned 
heresies and errors, earnestly he persuaded to godly life." 

Sampson, another contemporary, testifies concerning Bradford, 
" After that God touched his heart with that efliectuai and holy 
calling, he sold his chains, rings, brooches, and jewels of gold, 
which before he used to wear, and bestowed the price of these, 
his former vanities, in the necessary relief of Christ's poor 
members, whom he could hear of, or find lying sick or pining 
in poverty." His earnestness in repentance is also noticed by 
Sampson, (see p. 240,) who speaks thus of his constant and 
practical piety, and his constant communion with God in prayer. 

" Without an inward exercise of prayer, our Bradford did 
not pray to his full contentation, as appeared by this ; he used in 
the morning to go to the common prayer in the college where he 
was, and after that he used to make some prayer with his pupils 
in his chamber. But not content with this, he then repaired 
to his own exercise in prayer by himself, as one that had not 
yet prayed to his own mind ; for he was wont to say to his fami- 
liars, ' I have prayed with my pupils, but I have not yet prayed 
with myself.' Let those secure men mark this well, which pray 
without touch of breast, as the pharisees did, and so that they 
have said an ordinary prayer, or heard a common course of 
prayer, they think they have prayed well, and as the term is, 
they have served God well ; though they never feel sting for sin, 
taste of groaning, or broken heart, nor of the sweet saving 
health of Christ, thereby to be moved to offer the sacrifice of 
thanksgiving, nor change or rienewing of mind ; but as they 
came secure in sin and senseless, so they do depart without any 
change or affecting of the heart ; which is even the cradle in 
which Satan rocketh the sinners of this age asleep, who think 
they do serve God in these cursory prayers, made only of cuiiom ; 
w^hen their heart is as far from God as w^as the heart of the Pha- 
ri.-*e. Let us learn by Bradford's example to pray better, that 
is, with the heart, and not with the lips ak)ne ; as Cyprian saith, 
' Because God is the hearer of the heart, and not of the voice ;' 
that is to say, not of the voice alone w^ithout the heart, for that 
is but lip-labour. This conscience of sin, and exercise in prayer 
had Bradford, clean contrary to that cursed custom of those 
graceless men, which do joy to make large and long accounts of 
their lewdness, and glory therein, so feeling their delights with 
their lives past, as the dog returneth to his vomit; such 
as the prophet, Tsa. xxxix. saith, They declare their sins as 
Sodom, they hide them not, woe be to their souls! It goeth 
with them as in the days of Jeremiah it went with those, Jer. iii. 
God give these men better grace, else let them be assured they 
shall find woe ! woe ! to their very souls. 

" Another of his exercises was this : he used to make unto him- 
self a journal, in which he used to write all such notable things, 
as either he did see or hear each day that passed ; but whatsoever 
he did hear or see, he did so pen it, that a man might see in that 



xii Bradford. — Life, 

book the signs of his smitten heart ; for if he did see or hear 
any good in any man, by that sight he found and noted the want 
thereof in himself, and added a short prayer, craving mercy and 
grace to amend ; if he did hear or see any plague or misery, he 
noted it as a thing procured by his own sins, and still added, 
' Lord ! have mercy upon me.' He used in the same book to note 
such evil thoughts as did rise in him, as of envying the good of 
other men, thoughts of unthankfulness, of not considering God 
in his works, of hardness and insensibleness of heart, when he 
did see others moved and affected. And thus he made to him- 
self, and of himself, a book of daily practises of repentance. 

"Besides this, they which were familiar with him might see, 
how he, being in their company, used to fall often into a sudden 
and deep meditation, in which he would sit with fixed counte- 
nance and spirit moved, yet speaking nothing a good space ; and 
sometimes in this silent sitting, plenty of tears would trickle 
down his cheeks ; sometimes he would sit in it, and come out of 
it, with a smiling countenance. Oftentimes have I sat at dinner 
and supper with him in the house of that godly harbourer of 
many preachers and servants of the Lord Jesus, master Elsyng, 
when, either by occasion of talk had, or of some view of God's 
benefits present, or some inward cogitation and thought of his 
own, he hath fallen into these deep cogitations, and he would 
tell me in the end such discourses of them, that I did perceive 
that sometimes his tears trickled out of his eyes, as well for joy 
as for sorrow. Neither was he only such a practiser of repent- 
ance in himself, but a continual provoker of others thereunto ; 
not only in public preaching, but also in private conference and 
company. For, in all companies where he did come, he would 
freely reprove any sin and misbehaviour which appeared in any 
person, especially swearers, filthy talkers, and popish praters. 
Such never departed out of his company unreproved ; and this 
he did with such a divine grace and christian majesty, that ever 
he stopped the mouths of the gainsayers ; for he spake with 
power, and yet so sweetly, that they might see their evil to be 
evil, and hurtful unto them, and understand that it was good 
indeed to the which he laboured to dravy them in God." 

Bradford's zeal and activity as a preacher of the gosoel ren- 
dered him very obnoxious to the papists, and his popularity in 
the city of London, though he was always most faithful in reprov- 
ing sin, made them the more anxious to silence and remove him. 
To accomplish this, as Fox well observes, because they had no 
just cause, they took occasion to do him injury, for such an act 
as, among Turks and infidels, would have been with thankfulness 
rewarded, and with great favour accepted as it deserved. 

The act was this. Immediately aficr the accession of queen 
Mary, Bourne, afterwards bishop of ]]ath, a papist, preached at 
l^aul's cross, when he spoke so reproachfully of the late king, so 
justilied Bonner, and said so much in favour of popery, that the 
people were indignant, and a tumult ensued. A dagger was 



His conduct during his imprisonment. xiii 

hurled at the preacher, who shrunk back, and entreated Bradford, 
who stood near him, to come forward and speak to the j>eople. 
Bradford addressed them, and sharply reproving their conduct, 
prevailed upon them to desist. Having obtained a respite, he 
and Rogers assisted the mayor and sheriffs in conducting the 
trembling preacher into the grammar school, Bradford following 
Bourne, and sheltering him with his own person. Many pressed 
afler them, loudly expressing their regrets that such a character 
should be so protected. One gentleman who had made a direct 
attack upon Bourne, told Bradford, "Thou savest him that will 
help to burn thee !" The same Sunday afternoon, Bradford 
preached at Bow church, and sharply reproved the people for 
their proceedings. 

Such conduct ought to have procured Bradford countenance or 
favour from the queen, but he was one of the most eminent of 
the protestant divines, and against them every opportunity was 
to be taken ! Three days after, on August 16, 1553, Bradford was 
summoned before the council, and committed to the Tower on a 
charge of seditious conduct, shown while protecting Bourne I 
The people's having listened to his rebukes, was alleged as a 
proof that he had excited them to tumult ! 

Fox thus speaks of Bradford's imprisonment, " He was com- 
mitted first to the Tower, then unto other prisons, out of the 
which neither his innocency, godliness, nor charitable dealing 
could purchase him liberty of body, till by death, wLuch he suf- 
fered for Christ's cause, he obtained the heavenly liberty of 
which neither pope nor papist shall ever deprive him. From the 
Tower he came to the King's Bench in Southwark ; and after 
his condemnation, he was sent to the Compter, in the Poultry, in 
London, in the which two places, for the time he did remain pri- 
soner, he preached twice a day continually, unless sickness hin- 
dered him; where also the sacrament was often ministered, and 
through his means, the keepers so well did bear with him, such 
resort of good folks was daily to his lecture, and to the ministra- 
tion of the sacrament, that commonly his chamber was well nigh 
filled. Preaching, reading, and praying was all his whole life. 
He did not eat above one meal a day, which was but very little 
when he took it, and his continual study was upon his knees. 
In the midst of dinner, he used often to muse with himself, 
having his hat over his eyes, from whence came commonly plenty 
of tears dropping on his trencher. Very gentle he was to man 
and child, and in so good credit with his keepers, thad at his de- 
sire, in an evening, when prisoner in the King's Bench in South- 
wark, he had license, upon his promise to return again that night, 
to go into London without any keeper, to visit one that was sick, 
lying by the steel-yard. Neither did he fail his promise, but re- 
turned unto his prison again, rather being before his hour, than 
breaking his fidelity ; so constant was he in word and in deed. 

" Of person he was somewhat tall and slender, spare of body, 
of a faint sanguine colour, with an auburn beard. He slept 

2* 



xiv Bradford. — Life, 

not commonly above four hours in the night ; and in his bed till 
sleep came his book went not out of his hand. His chief recre- 
ation was in no gaming or other pastime, but only in honest 
company, and comely talk, wherein he would spend a little time 
afler dinner at the board, and so to prayer and his book again. 
He counted tiiat hour not well spent, wherein he did not some 
good, either with his pen, study, or in exhorting of otiiers. He 
was no niggard of his purse, but would liberally participate what 
he had to his fellow prisoners. And commonly once a week he 
visited the thieves, pick-purses, and such others that were with 
him in prison where he lay, on the other side ; unto whom he 
would give godly exhortation to learn the amendment of their 
lives by their troubles, and after that so done, distribute among 
them some portion of money to their comfort. 

" While he was in the King's Bench, and M. Saunders in the 
Marshalsea, both prisoners, at the back of those two prisons 
they met many times, and conferred together when they would, 
so mercifully did the Lord work for them, even in the midst of 
their troubles; and the said Bradford was so trusted with his 
keeper, and had such liberty, that there w^as no day but that he 
might have easily escaped away, if he would, but that the Lord 
had another work to do for him. In the summer time, while he 
was in the said King's Bench, lie had liberty of his keeper to 
ride into Oxfordshire, to a merchant's house of iiis acquaintance, 
and a horse, and all things prepared for him for that journey, 
and the party in a readiness that should ride with him, but God 
prevented him by sickness that he went not at all. 

" One of his old friends and acquaintance came unto him 
whilst he was prisoner, and asked him, if he sued to get him 
out, what then he would do, or whither he would go? Unto 
whom Bradford made answer, as not caring whether he went out 
or no ; but if he did, he said he would marry, and abide still in 
England secretly, teaching the people as the time would sutfer 
him, and occupy himself that way. He was had in so great 
reverence and admiration with all good men, that a multitude 
which never knew him but by fame, greatly lamented his death ; 
yea, and a number also of the papists themselves, wished heartily 
his life. There were few days in which he was thought not to 
spend some tears before he went to bed, neither was there ever 
any prisoner with him, but by his company he greatly profited, 
as all they will yot witness, and have confessed of him no less, 
to the glory of (jod, whose society he frequented : among many, 
one special thing I thought to note, which is this : 

" liishop Farrar being prisoner in the King's Bencli, was 
travailed withal of the pai)ists in the end of Lent, to receive the 
sacrament at I'^aster in one kind, who afler much persuading, 
yielded to them, and promised so to do. Then, so it happened 
by God's providence, on the easter even, the day before he should 
nave done it, was Bradford brought to the King's Bench, pris- 
oner ; where the Lord making him his instrument, Bradford only 



Discussions respecting free will, • xv 

was^ the mean that the said bishop Farrar revoked his promise 
and word, and would never after yield to be spotted with that 
papistical pitch ; so effectually the Lord wrought by this worthy 
servant of his. Such an instrument was he in God's church, 
that few or none there were that knew him, but esteemed him 
as a precious jewel, and God's true messenger." 

A few other particulars relative to Bradford's imprisonment 
may be added. When in the Tower, it was so full of prisoners, 
that Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, and Bradford were all thrust 
into one chamber. They gladly endured the inconvenience on 
account of the opportunity it afforded of enjoying sweet inter- 
course together; thus establishing one another. There they 
read over the New Testament together, with great deliberation, 
studying to see if there were any passages which savoured the 
popish doctrine of the corporeal presence. But, as Strype ob- 
serves, after all, they could find no presence but a spiritual, 
nor that the mass was any sacrifice for sin. But they found in 
that book, that the sacrifice of Christ upon the cross was perfect, 
holy, and good, and that God did require no other, nor that it 
should ever be done again. 

After his removal to the King's Bench, he long enjoyed the 
liberty related by Fox, but towards the close of the time he 
was more strictly imprisoned^ chiefly at the instance of Dr. 
Story, and the keeper was threatened with death if he allowed 
any to speak with Bradford. 

His letters show that he had discussions with some of his 
fellow prisoners in the King's B(inch, who adopted Pelagian or 
free-w411 doctrines, but though painful, they by no means pro- 
ceeded to the lengths which the papists at the time misrepre- 
sented, and some modern writers have willingly repeated. 
Many particulars relative to these discussions and other cir- 
cumstances of his imprisonment are mentioned in his letters, 
and will be read with interest. This subject is further noticed 
at page xvi. 

During king Edward's reign, many professed to be attached 
to the doctrines of the reformation, whose lives were not consist- 
ent with their profession. It is no new thing for persons to talk 
of the doctrines of truth, while in their lives they deny them. 
Most of these turned at once to popery when queen Mary came 
to the throne, but a few were so obnoxious to the ruling powers, 
as to be included in the general proscription, and were reckoned 
with the Reformers, although their conduct while in prison was 
very different. Such persons, Bradford and others seriously ad- 
monished, warningr them of their danger, nor should they ever 
be confounded with the real sufferers for conscience sake. 

During this imprisonment, an intention was formed of sending 
Bradford and others to Cambridge, to be publicly disputed with 
by the papists ; but this design was laid aside. 

The prisoners made a declaration, in which they plainly set 
forth the proceedings which had been urged forward against 



xvi Bradford, — Lif^. 

the reformation, and offered to maintain publicly the doctrines 
they had professed. This declaration is printed by Strype, from 
a manuscript containing several pieces written by Bradford, and 
it appears to have been the supplication referred to in his letter 
XLIX. in the following pages. It is as follows. 

" To the king and queen's most excellent majesties, with 
their most honourable high court of parliament. 

*'We, poor prisoners tor Christ's religion, require your hon- 
ours, in our dear Saviour Christ's name, earnestly now to re- 
pent, for that you have consented of late to the unplacing of so 
many godly laws, before set forth, touching the true religion 
of Christ, by two most noble kings, being father and brother to 
the queen's highness, and agreed upon by all your consents; 
not without your great and many deliberations, free and open 
disputations, costs, and pains-taking in that behalf, neither 
without great consultations and conclusions, had by the great- 
est learned men in the realm, at Windsor, Cambridge, and 
Oxford, neither without the most willing consent, and allowing 
the same by the whole realm thoroughly. So that there was 
not one parish in all England that ever desired again to have 
the romish superstitious and vain service, w^hich is now by the 
popish, proud, covetous clergy, placed again, in contempt not 
only of God, all heaven, and all the lessons of the Holy Ghost 
in the blessed bible ; but also against the honour of the said 
two noble kings, against your own country, fore-agreements, 
and against all the godly consciences within this realm of Eng- 
land, and elsew^here. By reason w^hereof, God's great plagues 
must needs follow, and great unquietness of conscience, besides 
all other persecutions and vexations of bodies and goods must 
ensue. Moreover, we certify your honours, that since your 
said unplacing of Christ's true religion and true service, and 
placing in the room thereof antichrist's romish superstition, 
heresy, and idolatry, all the true preachers have been removed 
and punished ; and that with such open robbery and cruelty, 
as in Turkey was never used, either to their own countrymen, 
or to their mortal enemies. 

"This therefore, our humble suit, is now to your honourable 
estates, to desire the same, for all the mercies' sake of our dear 
and only Saviour Jesus Christ, and for the duty you owe to your 
native country, and to your own souls, earnestly to consider from 
what light, to what darkness this realm is now brought, and that 
in the weightiest, chief, and principal matter of salvation, of all 
our souls and bodies, everlasting and for evermore. And even 
so we desire you, at this your assembly, to seek some effectual 
rof()rmation for the before written most horrible deformation in 
this church of England. And touching yourselves, we desire 
you in like manner, that we may be called before your honours; 
and if we are not able to prove and approve, by the catholic and 
canonical rules of Christ's true religion, the church homilies 
and service set forth in the most innocent king Edward's days ; 



His examinations and condemnatiofi, xvii 

and also to disallow and reprove, by the same authorities, the 
service now set forth since his departing ; then we offer our 
bodies, either to be immediately burned, or else to suffer what- 
soever other painful and shameful death it shall please the king- 
and queen's majesties to appoint. And we think this trial and 
probation may be now best, either in the plain English tongue 
by writing, or otherwise by disputation in the same tongue. Our 
Lord, for his great mercy sake, grant unto you all, the continual 
assistance of his good and holy Spirit. Amen." 

While Bradford was in prison, he did much service to the 
cause of Christ, especially by his letters. The importance and 
value of these writings was proved by a complaint made against 
them in the parliament house. The effect produced by them in 
Lancashire was described as very considerable. 

When the plans of the papists were sufficiently matured, 
Bradford was one of the first brought forward for judgment. He 
was examined before Gardiner, Bonner, and others, m January, 
1555, and condemned to the stake. His examinations are pre- 
served by Fox, and exhibit the unshrinking fidelity of the mar- 
tyr to the truth ; but the artifices of the papists confined them 
almost wholly to the subjects of the pope's supremacy, and the 
sacrament of the altar, so that they have little interest lor the 
general reader. During these examinations, another testimony 
to the effects of Bradford's writings was given. Secretary 
Bourne said, " Yea, it was reported this parliament time, by 
the earl of Derby, that he hath done more hurt by letters, 
and by exhorting those that have come to him in religion, 
than ever he did, when he was abroad, by preaching." It is 
added, " All which divers of the council affirmed." At the close 
of the first examination, being urged to submit himself and re- 
ceive mercy, he answered, " Mercy, with God's mercy should 
be welcome, but otherwise he would none." In the course of 
these examinations, Bradford's conduct at Paul's cross was ad- 
verted to, when he appealed to bishop Bourne who sat among 
Jiis judges ! In these examinations he conducted himself with 
meekness, yet firmness. 

Fuller well says, "All men observed the^ malice and cruelty 
of his enemies, how they had first committed him without lavv, 
and then, after a year and half imprisonment, made one that 
took away his life. He denied, indeed, the pope's authority over 
the church of England, and so had his judges done but the year 
before." 

After receiving sentence of condemnation, Bradford was con- 
ducted to the Poultry Compter. His conduct in that prison has 
been already described. There he remained till the beginning 
of July, during which time he was harassed by repeated di&r 
putations with the romanists. Bonner, bishop of London, the 
bishop of Chichester, the archbishop of York, two Spanish 
friars, one of whom was the king's confessor, with Harpsfield, 
Weston, Harding, Pendleton and others, came to him from day 



xviii Bradford. — Life, 

to day. The substance of their disputations is preserved by 
Fox. In answer to an observation of the bishop of Chichester, 
" He is a heretic, and so none of the church, that doth hold any 
doctrine against the definition of the church," Bradford empha- 
tically said, *' O my lord, will ye condemn to the devil any 
man that believeth truly the tw^elve articles of the faith, (wherein 
I take the unity of Christ's church to consist,) although in some 
points he believe not the definition of that which ye call the 
church "? I doubt not but that he which holdeth firmly the arti- 
cles of our belief, though in other things he dissent from your 
definition, yet he shall be saved." *' Yea," exclaimed the bishops, 
"is this your divinity 1" The substance of these disputations 
show that Bradford was well grounded in the argumentative 
learning then necessary, as well as in scriptural knowledge. 

At the latter end of the month of June, the hour of suffering 
drew near ; the particulars are thus related by Fox : — 

" The night before Bradford was had to Newgate, which was 
the Saturday night, he was troubled divers times in his sleep by 
dreams, how the chain for his burning was brought to the Comp- 
ter-gate, and how the next day, being Sunday, he should be had 
to Newgate, and on the Monday after burned in Smithfield, as 
indeed it came to pass accordingly. Now he, being vexed so oflen 
with these dreams, about three of the clock in the morning, 
waked him that lay with him, and told him his unquiet sleep, 
and what he was troubled withal. Then, afler a little talk, 
master Bradford rose out of the bed, and gave himself to his old 
exercise of reading and prayer, as always he had used before; 
and at dinner, according to his accustomed manner, he did eat 
his meat, and was very merry, nobody being with him from 
morning till night, but he that lay with him, with whom he had 
many times on that day communication, of death, of the king- 
dom of heaven, and of the ripeness of sin in that time. 

" In the afternoon, they two walking together in the keeper's 
chamber, suddenly the keeper's wife came up, as one half amazed, 
and seeminrr much troubled, being almost breathless, said, * Oh, 
Mr. Bradford, I come to bring you heavy news.' * What is that V 
said he. * Marry,' (juoth she, ' to-morrow you must be burned, and 
your chain is now a buyino", and soon you must go to Newgate.' 
With that Bradford put off his cap, and liflingup his eyes to 
heaven, said, ' I thank God for it ; I have looked for the same a 
long timo, and therefore it cometh not now to me suddenly, but 
as a thing waited for every day and hour ; the liOrd make me 
worthy thereof And so thanking her tor lier gentleness, he de- 
parted up into his chamber, and callec] his friend with him, and 
when he came thither, went secretly himself alone a long time 
and prayed. Which done, he came again to him that was in his 
chamber, and took him divers writings and papers, and showed 
him his mind in those things, what he would have done ; and afler 
thoy had spent the atlernoon till night, in many and sundry such 
things, at last came to him half a dozen of his friends more, 



His martyrdom. * xix 

with whom all the evening he spent the time in prayer and other 
good exercises, so wonderfully, that it was marvellous to hear 
and see, 

"A little before he went out of the Compter, he made a no- 
table prayer of his farewell, with such plenty of tears, and 
abundant spirit of prayer, that it ravished the minds of the 
hearers. Also, when he shifted himself with a clean shirt that 
was made for his burning, by one M. Walter Marlar's wife, who 
was a good nurse unto him, and his very good friend, he made 
such a prayer of the wedding garment, that some of those that 
were present were in such great admiration, that their eyes were 
as thoroughly occupied in Jooking on him, as their ears gave 
place to hear his prayer. At his departing out of the chamber, 
he made likewise a prayer, and gave money to every servant and 
officer of the house, with exhortation to them to fear and serve 
God, continually labouring to eschew all manner of evil. That 
done, he turned him to the wall, and prayed vehemently that his 
words might not be spoken in vain, but that the Lord would 
work the same in them effectually, for his Christ's sake. Then 
being beneath in the court, all the prisoners cried out to him, 
£Lnd bade him farewell, as the rest of the house had done before, 
with weeping tears. 

*' The time they carried him to Newgate, was about eleven or 
twelve o'clock in the night, when it was thought none would be 
stirring abroad : contrary to their expectation in that behalf, 
there was in Cheapside and other places, between the Compter 
and Newgate, a great multitude of people that came to see him, 
who most gently bade him farewell, praying for him with most 
lamentable and pitiful tears, and he again, as gently, bade them 
farewell, praying most heartily for them and their welfare. Now 
whether it were a commandment from the queen and her coun- 
cil, or from Bonner and his adherents, or whether it were de- 
vised of the lord mayor, alderman, and sheriffs of London, or 
no, [ cannot tell ; but a great noise there was over night about 
the city, that Bradford should be burnt the next day in Smith- 
field, by four of the clock in the mornings before it should be 
greatly known to any. In which rumour many heads had divers 
minds ; some thinking the fear of the people to be the cause 
thereof Others thought nay, that it was rather because the 
papists judged his death would convert many to the truth, and 
give a great overthrow to their kingdom. So some thought one 
thing, and some another, that no just conjecture of the cause could 
be known that ever I heard yet. But this was certain, the peo- 
ple prevented the device suspected ; for the next day, at the said 
hour of four o'clock in the morning, there was in Smithfield 
such a multitude of men and women, that many, being in admi- 
ration thereof, thought it was not possible that they could have 
warning of his death, being so great a number, in so short time, 
unless it were by the singular providence of almighty God. 

" Well, this took not efiect as the people thought ; for that 



XX Bradford, — Life. 

morning it was nine of the clock before Bradford was brought 
into Smithfield. In going through Newgate thitherward, he 
spied a friend of his whom he loved, standing on the one side 
the way, unto whom he reached his hand over the people, and 
pulled him to him, and delivered to him from his head his velvet 
nightcap, also his handkerchief, with other things besides. Atler 
a little secret talk with him, as they parted, immediately came a 
brother-in-law of his, called Roger Beswick, who as soon as he 
had taken the said Bradford by the hand, one of the sheriffs of 
London, called VVoodroffe, came with his staff* and brake the said 
Roger's head, that the blood ran about his shoulders. Which 
Bradford beholding with grief, bade his brother farewell, willing 
him to commend him to his mother, and the rest of his friends, 
and to get him to some surgeon ; so they departing, had little or 
no talk at all together. Then was he led forth to Smithfield 
with a great company of weaponed men, to conduct him thither, 
as the like was not seen at any man's burning, for in every corner 
of Smithfield there were some, besides those which stood about 
the stake. 

" When they came to the stake in Smithfield to be burned, 
Bradford lying prostrate on the one side of the stake, and a 
young man, John Leaf,* on the other side, they lay flat on their 
faces, praying to themselves the space of a minute. Then one 
of the sheriffs said to Bradford ; * Arise and make an end ; for 
the press of the people is great.' 

*' At that word they both stood up upon their feet ; and then 
Bradford took a fagot in his hand, and kissed it, and like- 
wise the stake. When he had so done, he desired of the sheriffs 
that his servant might have his raiment. ' For,' said he, * I have 
nothing else to give him ; and besides that, he is a poor man.' 
And the sheriff* said, he should have it. Forthwith Bradford 
put off* his raiment, and went to the stake, and holding up his 
hands and casting his countenance to heaven, he said thus, * O 
England, England, repent thee of thy sins, repent thee of thy 
sins! Beware of idolatry, beware of the false antichrists; take 
heed they do not deceive you.' And as he was speaking these 
words, the sheriff bade to tie his hands, if he would not be q^uiet. 
* O master sheriff,' said Bradford, * I am quiet. God forgive 

* John Leaf was apprentice to a lallovv-chandlcr, about twenty 
years of aj^c, and was Iniriied for refusinij^ to believe the popish doc- 
trine eoncfriiini^ llie sacrament. Fox says, "It is roi)orled of the 
Faid .Jolin Leaf by one that was in tlie ('onipter the same time, and 
saw the tiling, that aftrr bis examinations before the bisliop, when 
two bills were sent unto him in the Compter in Bread-street, the one 
containini^ a recantation, the other his confessions, to know to which 
of them he would put his hand to, first hearing the bill of rt^cantation 
read unto him, because he could not read nor writ(> himself, he refused 
it. And when the other was read unto him, which he well liked ot, 
instead of a pen he took a pin, and so prickini^ his hand, sjirinkled the 
blood upon the said bill, willuur the reader (hereof to show the bishop, 
that he had sealed tJic same bill with his blood already." 



His icritings. • ai 

you this, master sheriff.' And one of the officers who made the 
fire, hearing Bradford so speaking to the sheriff, said, * If you 
have no better learning than that, you are but a fool, and were 
best to hold your peace.' To the which words, Bradford gave 
no answer; but asked all the world forgiveness, and for- 
gave all the world, and prayed the people to pray for him, and 
turned his head unto the young man that suffered with him, and 
said, ' Be of good comfort, brother, for we shall have a merry 
supper with the Lord this night,' and so spake no more words that 
any man did hear, but embracing the reeds, said thus, 'Strait is 
the way, and narrow is the gate that leadeth to eternal salvation, 
and few there be that fmd it.' 

"And thus they both ended their mortal lives, like two lambs, 
without any alteration of their countenance, being void of all 
fear, hoping to obtain the prize that they had long run at ; to 
the which I beseech almighty God happily to conduct us, through 
the merits of Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour." Amen. 

Such was the end of John Bradford, concerning whom Ridley, 
whose chaplain he was, bore the following testimony. " He was 
a man by whom God hath and doth work wonders in setting forth 
his word." The papists were so sensible of his worth, that they 
took more pains to bring him over to their doctrines than any 
other. 

His long protracted confinement was rendered a blessing 
to the church of Christ, and affords a striking instance how God 
overruleth the wrath of man, causing it to praise him. Had he 
not been thus secluded from public services, he could hardly 
have been more useful among the people at large, as appears 
from the testimony of the papists respecting his letters ; and cer- 
tainly some of the most valuable statements of the doctrines of 
the British Reformers would have been wanting to succeeding 
generations. He translated some of the writings of the German 
Reformers in addition to the pieces included in this volume, 
which, however, is the most complete collection of his works yet 
published. In his letters and tracts he, being dead, yet speaketh, 
and many a weary and heavy laden soul has blessed God for 
the writings of John Bradford. They often present more of 
the genuine truths of the gospel in a single page, than is con- 
tained in whole volumes of later divines. Fox well observes, 
" They show how godly he occupied his time when a prisoner ; 
what special zeal he bore to the state of Christ's church ; what 
care he had to perform his office ; how earnestly he admonished 
all men ; how tenderly he comforted the heavy hearted, and how 
fruitfully he confirmed them whom he had taught." They plainly 
evidence the deep abhorrence of sin felt by the writer, and his 
sense of the divine mercy which had been imparted to him. 
In connexion with this, it may be related, that when he 
saw malefactors carried to execution, he would say, ** There 
goes John Bradford, but for the grace of God !" 

BRADFORD. 3 



xxii Bradford. — Life, 

Nor was his testimony only in writing or in words. As Fuller 
beautifully says, *' He endured the flame as afresh gale of wind 
in a hot summer's day, without any reluctancy ; conrirming by 
his death the truth of that doctrine, which he had so diligently 
and powerfully preached during his life." 



A Letter of Father Traves {as it seems) to John Bradford ; 
concerning a debt of his, and making restitution ; which he 
was not yet able to do. 

" Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and our Lord 
Jesus Christ. Ye shall understand, that after the receipt of 
your letters, I declared to M. Latimer the sum that ye writ to 
me concerning your matter with your master. When 1 came to 
that place, that you offered yourself to be a bondman, he misliked 
it, and said, though by God's word appeareth, that to make res- 
titution, we ought to sell ourselves; *yet would I not,' said he, 
' that he should go so far with his master.'* I asked him, what 
counsel he would give you ] He said, ' Better counsel, or more 
than I have given him, I cannot. Let him tarry, and, commit- 
ting the whole to God, work by leisure.' More could I not get 
of him : and I durst not trouble him, because he was studi- 
ously occupied in preparing a sermon to be preached, if God 
will, before the king this next Sunday. He knoweth not cer- 
tainly whether he shall thereto be called, but as yet judgeth. 
What his counsel is you have heard. 

" You proceed and ask my counsel. Alas ! you know that I am 
but a very block, yea, more dumb than a dumb idol; as little 
help in me as in the block of Walsingham.f Earnestly I protest 
that I know not what, nor how, to counsel you : but pray, pray, 
and commit yourself wholly to God. Wish an increase of that 
desire that ye have to make restitution. And whether that God 
will so enrich you, that ye shall be able to pay it, or that he will 
move your master, so that ho will and shall pay it, commit it to 
God with earnest desire and faithful prayer, that at length, yet 
when iiis merciful eye shall see most meet, he will unburden you 
of your check ; and look for his help in peace. I mean no such 
brutish security as is in me ; but with patient suffering, without 
writhing, wresting, or doubting of his promise, without desperate 
voices, thoughts, groan ings, or woes. For the Lord knoweth 
when and how to deliver them that trust in him, for their best 
avail ; yea, in spite of all hard hearts, God will at length, 
man, deliver thee. In the mean time, be neither stock nor 
stone, but labour for your part towards the ending of it, as 

* Or, for Ills master. 

t Th<' inia^'(j of the virgin Mary, worsliipprd at Walsingham in 
Norfolk, which was much resorted to by pilgrims. 



Letter of father Traves. . xxiii 

opportunity shall serve : whether in moving him again, as I 
would surely wish to do, or labouring to gather of your own, for 
the payment thereof. Do it freely, but do all in the name of the 
Lord, in all things giving thanks to God the Father, through 
Jesus Christ. And the most mighty God move the heart of your 
master to enrich you to your unburdening, even when his will 
shall be. 

" Despair not, though all in haste it be not repaid, as though 
ye were a man forlorn, for that the payment is not made ; but 
rather give thanks to God even heartily, for that he hath opened 
the fault unto you, and hath given you a conscience in it. For 
he might have given you up into a lewd* mind, which should, 
nothing regarding it, have cried Peace ! peace ! until sudden de- 
struction had come. But God of his mercy hath opened it to 
you; not that ye should deJight in it, as oh! God forgive me, 
that I do in commemoration of my iniquity much more delight, 
than sorrow ; but that it should be a school, a cross, a vexation, 
and perturbation of mind unto you. And also, that ye must be 
void from that desperate solicitude, and with this, that God hath 
given you an earnest desire to recompense : which is a great 
comfort, a signifying, that though you are a wretch and a sinner, 
yet God is with you and in you. Who can then harm you ] 

*' But how shall I do, if I die, say you, this being unpaid ? I 
say, God hath given you a desire to pay it, but not a power. Is 
God so cruel, think ye, that he will exact of you to do that which 
is impossible for you to do 1 Are ye able to pay it '? Then pay 
it. Are ye not able 1 Have a continual desire, which is to be 
begged of God, to pay, and, in the name of God, work so long 
as ye live, as God shall lead you towards the payment of it. 
And if ye die before the satisfaction, yet I think ye shall go 
without peril. For I believe the sin is forgiven already, for 
Christ's sake. 

" There remaineth then by the doctor's mind but restitution : 
and I believe that you have animum restituendi,] and earnestly 
labour and follow, upon God's preparation, toward the restitution ; 
the same hath made a good restitution, if ye die before a full 
restitution. 

" But indeed that substance that ye have at that time gathered 
together, must go fully towards it. But what talk ye of death ] 
God is able to make you to make restitution, even to-morrow. 
Pray continually for his help, and ease to unburden, that way 
which he knoweth to be best for you. And I dare say, that, for 
Jesus' sake, he will both hear and help you. But pray not, ap- 
pointing God any time : * Sed expecta Dominum, donee misere- 
atur tui,'t with full submission even in a patient, faithful mind 
to his will. Oh ! how arrogantly take I upon me to babble. But 
as I scribble, so do I but partly : follow not me, Bradford, follow 

* Ignorant. 

t A desire and mind to restore. 

I But wait upon God till he have compassion upon thee. 



xxiv Bradford, — Life, 

not me. For I am a very impenitent beast. I tell you of resti- 
tution! Oh ! Lord, spare me; give me not up altogether to a 
lewd impenitent heart, in which I procure heaps of wrath. 
Lord, help, for Christ's sake, help me. All that I do, I do it in 
sin and vainglory. Yet shall not the devil hinder me to write. 
For out of the wild fig-tree some profit may come. But no thanks 
to the tree, but the Creator. 

"Now foolishly further will I go. I would not offer myself 
into bondage to that earthly master. Ye know not what bondage 
meaneth. Be it that I speak but carnally, I speak as I am. I 
would not but think assuredly, that as God hath given me that 
grace to acknowledge my debt, being free, that the same Lord, of 
his mercy will, and is able, at ease to work in my freedom the 
discharge of my debt." 

{Something is wanting.) 

a 

Note relative to the disputations in the King^s Bench prison^ 
see page vii. 

The account given by Strype of the disputes in the King's 
Bench, mentioned at page v, is as follows: "One thing now 
fell out, (a. d. 1554,) which caused some disturbance among 
the prisoners. Many of them, that were under restraint for the 
profession of the gospel, were such as held free will, tending to 
the derogation of God's grace, and refused the doctrine of abso- 
lute predestination and original sin. They were men of strict 
and holy lives, but very hot in their opinions and disputations, 
and unquiet. Divers of them were in the King's Bench, where 
Bradford and many other gospellers were. Many whereof, by 
their conferences they gained to their own persuasions. Bradford 
had much discourse with them. The name of their chief man 
was Harry Hart, who had writ something in defence of his doc- 
trine. Trew and Abingdon were teachers also among them. 
Ken)p, Gibson, and Chamberlain were others. They ran their 
notions as high as Pelagius did, and valued no learning; and 
the writings and authorities of the learned they utterly rejected 
and despised. " Strype then notices Bradford's correspondence 
with Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, on this subject. 

Trew wrote some particulars of these contentions, and pointed 
out what he styled various "enormities" in doctrine, which he 
imputed to Bradford and liis friends; he also accuses the follow- 
ers of" the imagined predestination sect," as he styles them, of 
playing at bowls, cards, and dice, and of behaving in an unkind 
maimer towards the freewillers. Bradford replied in his short 
and j)ithy defence of the doctrine of election, (printed at page 
y:U of the present volume,) to which was added a second part, 
answering the prominent "enormities" alleged by Trew. He 



S 



Bradford and Trew. , xxv 

wrote in a christian spirit, and his arguments appear to be satis- 
factory and conclusive. 

Trew's statement, and Bradford's defence, have lately been 
printed from a manuscript in the Bodleian library. The former 
is stated to be " the most complete document upon the anti-pre- 
destinarian side of the question." Prominence is given to the 
reflections cast by Trew and his party upon their opponents, 
while the full and satisfactory letters of Bradford on this subject, 
(see pages 191, 193, 197, 198,) are passed over. 

This statement of Trew has been also referred to, as evidence 
of a laxity of manners among the professors of predestination, 
and as supporting what is called a natural conclusion, that the 
Calvinist will be careless about morals. 

It is unnecessary here to enter into the doctrinal part of this 
controversy, or to urge that such conclusions are unfounded, but 
as the allegations just noticed have induced some to suppose that 
Bradford and his associates were licentious and careless in their 
conduct, it is important to refer the reader to the letters already 
quoted, and to the following extract from the second part of his 
defence, in which, after replying to Trew, he adds : 

" This withal I say, that no man can use more godly discipline 
tow^ards themselves, and to the correcting and chastening of the 
old man, than those do, which have truly tasted of the spirit of 
God's election, for to such the corruption of our nature is felt a 
more horrible thing than hypocrites are able to think, and there- 
fore they are more rough and severe to others, which are fallen, 
than the elect are, who have put on them bowels of mercies, and 
cannot bat take other men's faults to heart, as their own, and 
therefore, so soon as any lovely sign of repentance ensueth, they 
seek with Paul that charity might prevail, where hypocrites are 
haughty, and contemn the poor publicans, as did the proud 
pharisee. Again, indeed, we say, that none is good but such as 
are predestinate, and also we say, that of those which are now 
in our sight evil, many may be called hereafter, and as God's 
dear elect, declare themselves to the world, and the wicked if 
they would see it. 

" As for who are the elect, and who are not, because it is 
God's privilege to know^ who are his, God's people are not 
curious in others, but as in themselves they feel the earnest of 
the Lord, and have God's Spirit in possession by faith, (I speak 
of those which are of years of discretion,) so do they judge of 
others by their w^orks, and not further do they enter with God's 
office. 

*' Moreover, where he saith Predestination is not absolute, 
if he meaneth it is not infallible, or it is not so certain but it 
may alter, then, when he hath proved it by scripture, a man 
may something be moved to mark better his words ; but till 
that time, which will never be, I will say, that if God predesti- 
nate any to life, they shall never be undone. 

3* 



XX vi Bradford. — Life. 

" As for his surmised imag;ination of election in the elect, 
whereby he taunts their faith, I will speak nothing, but God 
increase his, and and all our faith, and open our eyes to see what 
true faith is, whereof for my part I acknowledge a great weak- 
ness, and much more imagination, than true feith ; but yet, be 
it ever so little, I hope the Lord alloweth it, and will increase it 
for his name's sake, which I humbly crave at his hands, for the 
love of our only blessed Saviour Jesus Christ, the Light of the 
world, who lighten all our darkness to see his true light, and 
inflame our hearts and wills to approve and love the same un- 
feignedly. Amen. Then will taunting not tarry, but charitable 
admonition, and sorrowful sighing to see any professing God 
with us, entangled with such errors, as nourish such enormities, 
as here he maketh this most comfortable and profitable doctrine 
of God's holy election, for the which God's holy name be praised 
and magnified for ever, through Jesus Christ our blessed Lord 
and Saviour. Amen." 




T" 



A 
BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OP 

DR. NICHOLAS RIDLEY, 

Bishop of London, and Martyr, 1555. 



Dr. Nicholas Ridley was born in the beginning of the 
sixteenth century, at Willemonstwick, a town in Northumber- 
land, near the borders of Scotland. His father was the third 
son of an ancient and respectable family who had long resided 
in that country. After being educated at Newcastle on Tyne, 
he was removed to Pembroke- hall, in Cambridge, about the 
year 1518, just at the time when Luther's opposition to the 
pope's bulls respecting indulgences began to excite general atten- 
tion. He applied studiously to acquire the learning then most 
in repute, and, as his biographer states, 'his character at that 
time, appears to have been that of an ingenious, virtuous, zeal- 
ous papist.' 

After some years passed at Cambridge, Ridley visited France, 
and studied at the universities of Paris and Louvain. On his re- 
turn (about 1529), he pursued his theological studies with much 
earnestness, in particular committing to memory the greater 
part of the epistles in the original Greek, and his mind appears 
to have been enlightened by the study of the scriptures. In 
1534, he took an active part in the public discussions relative 
to the pope's supremacy, and, in 1537, archbishop Cranmer 
appointed him one of his chaplains. 

In 1538, Ridley was collated to the vicarage of Heme, in 
Kent, where the people for many miles round crowded to attend 
his preaching ; and he diligently instructed his charge in the doc- 
trines of the gospel, although on the point of tran substantiation, 
he was not as yet fully emancipated from popish errors. When 
the act of the six articles came out, Ridley bore public testi- 



2 Ridley. 

mony against it, but being unmarried, and as yet in error as to 
the Sacrament of the altar, he did not fall within its penalties. 

In October, 1540, Ridley was appointed to the mastership of 
Pembroke-hall, which was then remarked for the learning and 
scriptural knowledge of its members, and, in the following year, 
he was nominated one of the prebendaries of Canterbury, 
where he preached so strongly against the abuses of popery, as 
to excite some of the bigoted ecclesiastics to accuse him of 
having offended against the laws then in force, but their malice 
was disappointed. He particularly contended that prayer 
should be made in a language which the people could under- 
stand. 

Ridley passed a great part of the year 1545 at Heme, when 
he was induced to examine more particularly respecting the 
Sacrament ; the arguments and sufferings of those who opposed 
the popish errors upon this subject having made a strong im- 
pression upon his mind. The effect of this investigation, was 
to remove the error under which he had laboured, and, commu- 
nicating his views to Cranmer, they examined the doctrines of 
the church of Rome as to transubstantiation, and those of the 
Lutheran church respecting consubstantiation. After a full 
investigation of the scriptures, and the writings of the Fathers 
of the primitive church, they were enabled to discern the truths 
which had been till then obscured and concealed from their 
view. 

On the accession of Edward VI., Ridley was appointed one 
of the preachers at court, and forwarded the Reformation to 
the utmost of his power. In 1547, he was made bishop of 
Rochester, and, in 1549, we find him bearing a prominent part 
in a public disputation, with the Romanists at Cambridge, on 
the subject of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, the particu- 
lars of which are fully stated in Fox's Acts and Monuments. 

In April, 1550, Ridley was appointed to the see of London ; 
this important office he discharged with much f:iithf\ilncss, and 
in a very exemplary manner. He behaved with much kindness 
to Bonner, who was removed from that bishopric on account of 
his obstinate attachment to popery, and was particularly careful 
that he should suffer as little pecuniary loss as possible from 
his removal. When at Fulham, he always, at dinner and sup- 
per, sent for Bonner's mother and sister, who resided near, and 



Life. ' 3 

constantly placed the former at his right hand, alleviating her 
misfortunes to the utmost of his power.* 

Fox thus speaks of Ridley's discharge of his episcopal duties. 
" He so laboured and occupied himself in preaching and teach- 
ing the true and wholesome doctrine of Christ, that a good 
child never was more loved by his dear parents, than he was by 
his flock and diocese. Every Sunday and holy day, he preached 
in some place or other, unless hindered by weighty business. 
To these sermons the people resorted, swarming about him like 
bees, and coveting the sweet flowers and wholesome juice of the 
fruitful doctrine, v^rhich he not only preached, but showed the 
same by his life as a shining light, in such pure order, that even 
his \*'ery adversaries could not reprove him in any one jot there- 
of." His ordinary course of life at that time, is thus described 
by the same writer. " He, using all ways to mortify himself, 
was given to much prayer and contemplation. For early every 
morning, so soon as his apparel was upon him, he prayed on his 
knees half an hour, which being done, immediately he went to 
his study, if there came no other business to interrupt him, 
where he continued till ten o'clock, and then came to common 
prayer daily used in his house. The prayers being done, he 
went to dinner,t where he talked little, and then it was sober, 
discreet, and wise, and sometimes merry, as the cause required. 
The dinner being over, which was not very long, he used to sit 
an hour or thereabouts talking, or playing at chess. That done, 
he returned to his study, and continued there until five o'clock, 
unless suitors or business abroad prevented. He then came to 
common prayer, which being finished, he went to supper. Afl:er 
supper he recreated himself an hour, and then returned to his 
study, continuing there till eleven o'clock, which was his com- 
mon hour to go to bed, then saying his prayers upon his knees 
as in the morning when he rose. When at Fulham, he read a 
lecture to his family every day at the common prayer, begin- 
ning at the Acts, and so going through all the epistles, giving a 
New Testament to every man that could read, and hiring them 

* When Bonner \yas restored, he acted in a very different manner, 
not only treating Ridley's relations with much harshness and severity, 
but even depriving them of property to which they were legally en- 
tided, and endeavouring to procure the death of Ridley's brother-in- 
law. 

t At that period, it was usual for the nobility and gentry to dine at 
eleven o'clock. 



4 Ridley. 

with money to learn by heart certain principal chapters, but 
especially Acts xiii. He often read to his household the 101st 
psalm, being very careful over his family, that they might be 
an example of all virtue and honesty to others. To be short, as 
he was godly and virtuous himself, so nothing but godliness and 
virtue reigned in his house, he feeding them with the food of our 
Saviour Jesus Christ." 

Much of Ridley's time, during the reign of Edward VI., was 
occupied in discharging the public duties of his office, which 
were neither few nor small, and during the prevalence of a pes- 
tilential distemper in London, called the sweating sickness,* he 
continued to reside among his flock. In his pastoral duties, he 
was ably assisted by Bradford and Grindal, two of his chap- 
lains. 

In the beginning of 1553, the king's health was evidently in 
a declining state, when, by Ridley's means, the noble foundation 
of Christ's Hospital, and those of St. Bartholomew, Bridewell, 
and Bethlehem were established. 

The particulars of the last days of Edward VI., and the 
brief reign of Lady Jane Grey, need not be given in this place. 
Ridley does not appear to have taken a prominent part in those 
events, if we except a sermon preached by him at Paul's Cross, 
by order of the council, on one of the two Sundays between 
the death of king Edward, and the entrance of queen Mary 
into London. On that occasion, he strongly urged the evils 
which must ensue from Mary's attachment to popery, if she 
obtained the crown. This was not forgotten by his enemies, 
and as soon as Mary's authority was established, Ridley was 
committed to the tower, and Bonner was again established as 
bishop of London — of the wide difference between his conduct 
and that of Ridley, both in private life and public affairs, the 
reader doubtless is fully aware. 

Ridley continued in the tower several months. During the 
greater part of the time ho had Cranmer and Latimer for his 
fellow-prisoners ; — tlie result of their conferences will be found 
in the following pages. In April, 1554, these venerable Fathers 
of the English church were sent to Oxford, to dispute publicly 

* The 15th of April. 1551, the infectious sweatin^j sickness began 
at Shrcwsbur>'- What number died cannot be well accounted, but 
certain it is, that in London in a few days 960 gave up the ghost.— 
St owe s Annals. 



Life, . 5 

with a number of the Romish doctors on the subject of the 
mass and the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The particulars 
of this disputation were recorded by Jewel, and are given 
at length in Fox's Acts and Monuments : — the manner in which 
it was conducted is noticed in a subsequent page of this work : 
we may, however, observe that Ridley's knowledge of the Greek 
language, and his being versed in the writings of the Fathers, 
enabled him to correct many attempts to pervert the meaning 
of the ancient writers.* After these disputations were concluded, 
the three bishops were condemned as heretics, when Ridley re- 
plied, " Although I be not of your company, yet, I doubt not, 
but that my name is written in another place, whither this 
sentence will send us sooner than we should have come by the 
course of nature." 

They were not put to death at that time, but were closely 
confined at Oxford during the next eighteen months. Though 
kept from scenes of active usefulness, they were not idle. Lati- 
mer, weak and enfeebled through age, could do little but read 
his Testament ; and that, as he afterwards declared, he read 
over diligently seven times during his confinement. Cranmer 
reviewed, and added to, his writings on the Sacrament. Ridley 
was strictly watched, deprived of most of his books, and denied 
the use of pen, ink, and paper ; but he snatched every opportu- 
nity ; and when his scanty supplies of materials for writing 
failed him, he cut the lead from his prison-windows, and wrote 
in the margins of the few books he possessed. 

In the letters given in the following pages, the reader will 
find many interesting notices of this irksome period of Ridley's 
confinement. It was particularly severe with regard to him ; 
while in the tower he had been more favourably treated than 
many others, but when the papists found he could not be 
wrought upon by all their blandishments they changed their 
measures, and acted towards him with much severity. 

At length, in October, 1555, Ridley and his companions were 
called before commissioners appointed to examine and con- 
demn them. After some discussions, which chiefly related to 

* Latimer was not well skilled in Greek, having been far ad- 
vanced in life before that language was much taught. Of this the 
Romanists took advantage, and when arguing with him, actually 
falsified a quotation from the New Testament! 

RIDLEY. 2 



6 Ridley, 

the usurped authority of the popes, Ridley was condemned, and 
also his fellow-prisoners. His life was spared a fortnight 
longer, during which he wrote some farewell letters and admo- 
nitions. On the 15th of October, he was degraded by the 
Romish commissioners, and the next morning he was led forth 
to the place where he and Latimer were to be burned. Ridley 
arrived there first, and as soon as his fellow-sufferer came, 
Ridley kissed him, saying, " Be of good heart, brother, for God 
will either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen 
us to abide it." The latter was his experience. Dr. Smith 
preached a sermon, in which he asserted many falsities respect- 
ing the martyrs and their doctrines, to which Ridley wished to 
reply, but was not permitted : " Well," said he, *' so long as 
the breath is in my body, I will never deny my Lord Christ and 
his known truth." 

They were then fastened to the stake. Ridley lifled up his 
hands towards heaven and prayed. " O heavenly Father, I give 
thee most hearty thanks that thou hast called me to be a pro- 
fessor of thee even unto death. I beseech thee. Lord God, have 
mercy upon the realm of England, and deliver her from all her 
enemies." Ridley then addressed himself to lord Williams, 
who was appointed to superintend the execution, and besought 
him to plead with the queen in behalf of his poor relatives, and 
others who were unlawfully deprived by Bonner of the leases 
they had agreed for with Ridley while he possessed the see of 
London. 

The fire was lighted — when Ridley saw it flaming up towards 
him, he cried out with a loud voice, "Into thy hands, O Lord, 
I commend my spirit. O Lord, receive my spirit." Latimer 
soon died, apparently with little or no pain ; but on Ridley's 
side the fire was kept down, owing to the bad management of 
those that had built up the fagots, so that it only burned be- 
neath. When Ridley felt tliis, he intreated them, for Christ's 
sake, to let the fire come to him. His brother-in-law, desiring 
to relieve his pain, but misunderstanding his wishes, heaped on 
more fagots, which kept the fire down still longer, and it burned 
all his lower parts without touching the upper. He repeated 
his desire to have the fire suffered to come unto him, and after 
his legs were consumed, the spectators saw one side of his body, 
shirt and all, untouched with the flame. But his confident 



Life. 7 

expectation was granted ; for although the torment was in- 
deed dreadful, "he was strengthened to abide it." He fre- 
quently exclaimed, " O Lord, have mercy upon me," and 
requested that they would let the fire come to him. At last he 
was understood ; one of the bystanders pulled off the upper 
fagots — the flame arose, and when the tortured martyr saw the 
fire, he leaned towards it. After the flame reached the gun- 
powder affixed to him and it had exploded, he stirred no more ; 
but his legs being wholly consumed, the upper part of his body 
turned over the chain, and fell at Latimer's feet. — These hor- 
rifying details are given from Fox, not needlessly to wound the 
reader's feelings, but for the striking picture they present of the 
constancy of this faithful martyr of Christ. 

Let us briefly contrast the last hours of Ridley with those 
of his cruel persecutor, bishop Gardiner, which occurred imme- 
diately afterwards. On the day of Ridley and Latimer's mar- 
tyrdom, he waited with impatience for the account of their 
burning, having arranged that messengers should be despatched 
to inform him as soon as the pile was set on fire. He delayed 
sitting down to his dinner till he received the desired intelli- 
gence. About four o'clock an express arrived with the wel- 
come news, and Gardiner sat down to dinner. He " was not 
disappointed of his lust, but while the meat was yet in his 
mouth the heavy wrath of God came upon him." While at 
table he felt the first attacks of a mortal disease, the effect of 
vices in which he had long indulged ; and though, for some 
days afterwards, he was able to go out and attend the parlia- 
ment, his illness rapidly increased, until, as was stated by one 
of his contemporaries, he became so offensive, " that it was 
scarcely possible to get any one to come near him." The suf- 
ferings of his mind were not less painful than those of his body. 
He frequently exclaimed, " I have sinned like Peter, but I have 
not wept like him." Dr. Day, the bishop of Chichester, seeing 
Gardiner's dreadful state, and knowing that the juggleries of 
popery could not afford any support at such an hour, endea- 
voured to comfort him with the offers of free justification 
through the blood of Christ made in the scripture. Gardiner 
convinced, but not changed, showed the natural enmity of the 
heart of man against the doctrines of grace, exclaiming, " What, 
my lord, will you open that gap nowl Then farewell all 



8 Ridley. 

together. To me, and such other in my case, indeed you may 
speak it ; but open this window to the people, and then fare- 
well all together." He endured these protracted torments longer 
than Ridley had suffered, lingering in this state till the 13th of 
November, during which time it is recorded, that " he spake 
little but blasphemy and filthiness, and gave up the ghost with 
curses in his mouth, in terrible and unexpressible torments." 
What were Ridley's sufferings when compared with these ] 
Surely every reader will exclaim, " Let me die the death of the 
righteous, and let my last end be like his." 

The writings of Bishop Ridley are not numerous, some few 
have been lost, among them a treatise on Predestination, which 
is much regretted ; and it is also to be lamented that some, at 
least, of his sermons, have not been preserved, for he excelled 
as a preacher, and devoted much of his studies to preparation 
for the pulpit. His treatise on the Lord's Supper is the most 
important of his works ; his other pieces, however, are valuable 
additions to the Writings of the British Reformers. In the pre- 
sent publication, his letters are collected from Fox, Coverdale, 
and Burnet, and are arranged in the order adopted, in Dr. 
Gloucester Ridley's valuable life of his ancestor ; and various 
references are made to that work, and other sources, w]uch are 
explanatory of their contents. 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF 

THE LIFE OF THOMAS CRANMER, 

Archbishop of Canterbury, and Martyr, a. d. 1556. 



PART I. 

Cranmer during the reign of Henry VIIL 

A COMPLETE biographical account of Cranmer must include a 
large portion of the history of the English reformation. In 
the present sketch it is only intended to state some particulars 
which are requisite to convey correct information respecting 
his personal history, briefly noticing several points which have 
been misrepresented by the bigoted Romanists and the self- 
called liberal historians of protestant countries. We cannot 
be surprised that the character of a real follower of Christ is 
not fairly appreciated by the world, but every opportunity should 
be taken, to correct those mis-statements which bear some ap- 
pearance of truth, while grosser falsehoods may be left, as car- 
rying their own refutation. In general, the English protestant 
is too indifferent respecting the charges advanced against Cran- 
mer. He would not estimate the character of the apostle of 
the gentiles by the opinions of the craftsmen of Ephesus or the 
philosophers of Athens, although they were not expressed in 
the bitter terms used by the elders of Jerusalem, who called 
him " a pestilent fellow and a mover of sedition" — why then 
should he listen to the representations of the character of Cran- 
mer which emanate from those who evidently are actuated by 
a similar spirit to that of the opponents of the apostle] The 
words of our Lord, "Because ye are not of the world, but I 
have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth 
you ;" are applicable to every follower of Christ. 

But, however unqualified the world and its votaries may be 
to estimate the character of a christian, the accusations against 
Cranmer render it necessary to show that he may rightly be 
designated as such. Nor is this difficult. There are numerous 



2 Cranmer, — Life, [a. d. 1489. 

testimonies extant in the writings of his contemporaries, and 
in the public and private documents of that day, which explain 
his conduct; the originals still exist, and lately have been 
published in various forms. To these it is the duty of the 
English protestant to refer; they are not difficult of access 
although too frequently neglected.* 

Thomas Cranmer was the son of a gentleman of respecta- 
bility, of Aslacton, in Nottinghamshire, where he was born 
July 2(1, 1489. He received the first rudiments of his educa- 
tion under a harsh preceptor, an ecclesiastic, from whom " he 
learned little, and had to suffer much." His father permitted 
him to practise field spMDrts and exercises, in the pursuit of 
which he manifested much courage and address. After his 
father's death, he was sent, at the early age of fourteen, to 
Jesus' college in Cambridge. There he lost his time till he was 
twenty-two years of age, in the sophistry, logic, and scholastic 
philosophy of that day. Afterwards he studied Erasmus, and 
good Latin authors for four or five years, till the writings of 
Luther began to engage public attention. He then, as Strype 
relates, " considered what great controversy there was in mat- 
ters of religion; not in trifles, but in the chiefest articles of our 
salvation, and bent himself to try out the truth therein. And 
forasmuch as he perceived he could not rightly judge in such 
weighty matters without the knowledge of the holy scriptures, 
before he was influenced with any man's opinions or errors, he 
applied his whole study for three years therein. After this he 
gave his mind to good writers both new and old ; not rashly 
running over them ; for he was a slow reader, but a diligent 
marker of whatsoever he read, seldom reading without pen in 
hand. And whatsoever made either for the one part or the 
other, of things in controversy, he wrote it out if it were short, 

* Copies of most of the papers and documents referred to in this 
sketch, will be found in the histories of Herbert, Strype, Fox, and Bur- 
net. Some of the strongest testimonies in behalf of Cranmer are in the 
pages of lord Herbert, wlio certainly cannot be accused of partiality to- 
wards the doctrines of the reformer. The history of the reformation by 
the Rev. II. Soames, lately nuhlished, contains many important state- 
ments respecting (-ranmer — thev are the more valuable as they are par- 
ticularly calculated to expose the soj)histries newly revived by moaem 
Kornanists. These works have left little to be desired as to authenticated 
de'tails respecting the occurrences of tlie retbrmation, but an account of 
those times, wriUen upon the plan of Milner's liistory of the church of 
Christ, is greatly needed. 

In the fSllowmg pages the sources are indicated from whence infor- 
mation upon points of importance has been derived. To have given 
minute references woukl only have einbarrast^ed the reader without 
any correspunding advantage. — If fuller particulars be desired relative 
to any subject connected with the liistory of the English reformation, 
the reader may refer to the historians already mentioned, with contidence 
that \\o will hnd in their pages the information he desires. Much valu- 
abl«> information also is contained in the histoiy of England, by Sharon 
Turner. 



A. D. 1523.] His abilities and learning, 3 

or at least noted the author and the place that he might write 
it out at leisure, which was a great help to him in debating 
matters ever after."* 

This was Cranmer's course of study until 1523, when he 
took his degree of doctor of divinity, about the thirty-fourth 
year of his age. He thus accumulated stores of learning 
which proved of material service to him, for he never was at a 
loss when Henry VIII. consulted him on subjects of doubt 
and difficulty ; in a few hours he could communicate informa- 
tion upon any of the abstruse or complicated questions in 
which that monarch frequently employed himself. 

Cranmer had previously married the daughter of a gentle- 
man, by which union he lost his fellowship, but he continued 
to pursue his studies, and was appointed lecturer at Bucking- 
ham (afterwards Magdalen) college. His wife resided with a 
relative who kept the Dolphin inn, whither Cranmer frequently 
resorted to visit her. Upon this circumstance the papists 
grounded an assertion that he was originally a hostler, accus- 
tomed to frequent low company, and devoid of learning ! His 
wife died in child-birth within a year after their marriage, upon 
which the master and fellows of Jesus' college unanimously 
re-chose him a member of their society. 

About that time cardinal Wolsey induced some of the most 
eminent scholars of Cambridge to remove to his new foundation 
at Oxford. Cranmer was nominated for one, but he declined 
the offer, although advantageous in point of emolument. Soon 
after, he was appointed examiner in divinity, " in which place 
he did much good ; for he used to question the candidates out 
of the scriptures, and by no means vi^ould let them pass, if he 
found they were unskilful therein, or unacquainted with the 
history of the bible. The friars, whose study lay only in 
school authors, especially were so ; whom therefore he some- 
times turned back as insufficient, advising them to study the 
scriptures for some years longer, before they came for their 
degrees ; it being a shame for a professor in divinity to be un- 
skilled in the book, wherein the knowledge of God and the 
grounds of divinity lay. Whereby he made himself from the 
beginning hated by the friars, yet some of the more ingenuous 
afterwards rendered him great and public thanks for refusing 
them ; whereby, being put upon the study of God's word, they 
attained to more sound knowledge in religion." 

* Strype's Memorials of archbishop Cranmer, contain the best ac- 
count of that prelate ; they were compiled, as he states, " by a care- 
ful and long search, not only into printed books of history, but the 
best archives, and many most precious and inestimable manuscripts 
that have fallen into my hands." These are enumerated by Strype in 
his preface, and are referred to in the course of his work. Most of tlie 
personal particulars were drawn from a manuscript account, compiled 
by Morice, the secretary of Cranmer, for the use of archbishop 
Parker, which still remains in the library of Coipus Christi Collese, 
Cambridge, 



4 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1527. 

These particulars of Cranmer's early life throw considerable 
light upon his character. We see him early trained to habits 
of submission and self-control, sufficiently instructed in the 
subtilties of scholastic divinity to discern its utter worthless- 
ness, while the writings of Erasmus removed blind reverence 
for papal authority, and those of Luther pointed out the doc- 
trines of the gospel. His scriptural studies made him wise 
unto salvation, and showed him the necessity of trying the 
opinions of men by the standard of divine truth, while his ac- 
quaintance with the early fathers enabled him to meet, and to 
overcome the papists with their own weapons. Nor can one who 
pursued this even course of life for twenty-five years, declining 
advantageous offers of preferment, be considered as a wordly- 
minded or ambitious character. His marriage also showed him 
to be very different from the ecclesiastics of that period. The 
worst that the Romanists have alleged against Cranmer on this 
head is, that he preferred a married to a single life — of the lives of 
Gardiner, Bonner, and other " unchaste votaries" of the Romish 
church, who were his contemporaries, it is unnecessary to 
speak. 

Such was Cranmer at the age of thirty-nine, when he was 
called to enter upon more public duties. Here we must briefly 
relate some particulars respecting the divorce of Henry VIH., 
which materially assisted the progress of the reformation in 
this country, as it was the main cause of the pope's authority 
being cast off. 

In 1501, Henry VH. married his eldest son, prince Arthur, 
then a youth of sixteen, to Catherine, princess of Spain. The 
prince died a few months after his marriage. The king, being 
unwilling to return the large dowry of the princess, determined 
to affiance her to his younger son, prince Ilenry, then a child 
of twelve years of age. As this marriage with a brother's 
widow was contrary to the Levitical law, and the practice of 
christian nations, the papal sanction was considered needful. It 
was applied for against the earnest remonstrance of archbishop 
Warham, but pope Julius II. readily consented to oblige the 
two powerful monarchs of Spain and England; a bull was 
granted by which the prince and princess were absolved from 
ecclesiastical censures if they should marry, provided they sub- 
mitted to some penance which might be enjoyed by their con- 
fessors; thus the pope admitted that such a union was C(intrary 
to the scriptures, and assumed a power to dispense with the 
laws of God. The ago of Ilenry, however, prevented the im- 
mediate completion of this contract, and his father, upon more 
mature reflection, began to apprehend that many disadvantages 
might arise from such a connexion. He therefore caused his 
sorT, two years afterwards, to make a regular protest against 
the marriage, and when on his death-bed, he strongly urged the 
prince not to complete his union with Catherine. 



Henry'^s marriage and divorce. 5 

Other counsels prevailed, and Henry's own inclination coin- 
ciding, he married the Spanish princess, a few weeks after he 
came to the throne. 

For a time Henry lived happily with Catherine, but all their 
children died young-, excepting the princess Mary. As the queen 
advanced in life she fell into an ill state of health, and an heir 
to the throne was no longer to be expected. This was a severe 
disappointment to the king. His education had led him to the 
study of casuistical divinity, and he was struck with the simi- 
larity of his own case to the denunciation of holy writ, (Levit. 
XX. 21,) that such marriages should be childless. Further ex- 
amination of the writings of the school divines increased his 
uneasiness. He found that his favourite author, Thomas 
Aquinas, very strongly censured such marriages, and also held 
that the popes had no power to dispense with the laws of God. 
It does not appear precisely when Henry first began to entertain 
scruples upon this subject, but there is evidence to show that so 
early as 1524, these doubts had begun to influence his conduct, 
and he no longer considered Catherine to be his lawful wife. 
The difficulties in w^hich he was placed also became more ap- 
parent in the following year, when the emperor Charles had 
engaged to marry the princess Mary, but the treaty was broken 
off upon the council of Castile expressing doubts as to her 
legitimacy ; many learned men hesitating as to the authority of 
the pope to sanction such a union. Negotiations respecting 
the marriage of the princess into the royal family of France, 
also failed from the same cause. 

At this period cardinal Wolsey was the the prime minister of 
England, and possessed extraordinary influence over the 
mind of Henry. The emperor Charles, who was nephew to 
Catherine, had sorely displeased the cardinal, by disappointing 
his repeated attempts to obtain the papacy, after having pro- 
mised to aid his wishes therein. Wolsey, anxious to revenge 
himself upon the emperor, and also offended with Catherine 
for having rebuked his luxurious and licentious course of life, 
determined to rid himself of a virtuous monitor, and to mortify 
the pride of the imperial family, by promoting a divorce from 
the Spanish princess, and a marriage with Renee, sister to the 
French queen. With this view Wolsey directed Longland, 
bishop of Lincoln, who was the king's confessor, to strengthen 
Henry's scruples. Longland denied that he had first infused 
them, but it was generally believed that they had been encou- 
raged by him, and the whole subject began to engage the public 
attention.* 

While Henry's mind was thus exercised, his desire to put an 

* Wolsey avowed himself to have been the originator of the king's 
scruples. Sharon Turner, ii. 146. By his legantine power he published 
a papal bull against unlawful marriages in 1524. 

CRANMER. 2 



6 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1527. 

end to his marriage received an increased impulse from another 
circumstance; the appearance at court of Anne Boleyn, daugh- 
ter of sir Thomas Boleyn, viscount Rochfort, a nobleman of 
considerable wealth and influence, who was connected with 
some of the principal families of the land. He had been much 
employed in affairs of state. His daughter was taken to France 
by the sister of the king, on her marriage with the French 
monarch in 1514. Anne was then seven years of age ; she 
remained in that country, as an attendant upon queen Claudia 
and the duchess of Alencon, who was a favourer oi' the reforma- 
tion. On Anne's return she appeared at the English court in the 
spring of 1527. Being in the prime of youth, exceedingly beau- 
tiful, and far more accomplished than the ladies of that period 
generally were, she attracted much attention. Tiie eldest son of 
the earl of Northumberland in particular, declared himself 
anxious to obtain her for his wife ; the offer of such a union 
speaks highly in her favour. But the king had also become her 
admirer, though he was not disposed at that time to avow his 
own sentiments ; her marriage with lord Percy was forbidden, 
and she was withdrawn from court for a time, which she attri- 
buted to the displeasure of the cardinal. Previously, however, 
to the intentions of Henry towards Anne Boleyn being declared, 
he had taken decided steps to procure a divorce: 

A recent instance of facility in a similar case, that of Lewis 
XH., made it probable that no difficulty would be ofl^ered on 
the part of the pope ; especially as it could be proved that the 
bull of dispensation for the marriage was obtained under false 
pretences; a circumstance always considered sufficient to jus- 
tify the revocation of a papal decree, without compromising the 
infallibility of the papacy. As a preliminary step, the bishops 
were directed to give their opinions upon the subject; they did 
so ; with the single exception of Fisher, bishop of Rochester, 
all declared against the validity of the king's marriage, and 
Dr. Knight, one of the king's secretaries, was despatched to 
Rome to conduct the negotiations. 

This was in 1527; at that period the pope was completely in 
the em[)eror'8 power. Rome had been taken and sacked by 
the imperial troops ; the pope was then a prisoner, fearful 
that the emperor would accuse him of simony, and cause him 
to be deposed, to which he was also liable from having forged 
documents to conceal the illegitimacy of his own birth ! 

With much dilRculty, Knight contrived to communicate with 
the pope, who professed his willingness to forward the views of 
the English monarch, but stated that the emperor had forbidden 
him to do so. Afler seven months' imprisonment, the pope 
effected an arrangement with tlie emperor, and succeeded in 
escaping to Orvieto. Dr. Knight followed him tiiither, and was 
received by Clement with many professions of a desire to 
oblige Henry, but he resorted to numerous expedients to 



A. D. 1529.J Papal artifices. 7 

avoid giving a decision upon the subject. Among other sug- 
gestions, he proposed to sir Gregory Cassalis, an agent of Henry, 
that if his master's conscience were satisfied, he should imme- 
diately marry another wife, and then refer the whole case ab- 
solutely to him for decision. The English monarch, of course, 
would not take this step, which must have thrown him wholly 
into the power of the pope ; to say nothing of other objections. 

The various articles and expedients practised by Clement 
need not to be detailed here ; they are related by the best histo- 
rians of those times, who refer to the original papers which 
passed during these negotiations, in which Gardiner, afterwards 
bishop of Winchester, was most active, as one of the king's 
agents, in forwarding the divorce. At length, in 1528, the pope 
consented to grant a commission to two cardinals, Wolsey and 
Campegio, to examine and try the cause in England. 

The pope, however, protracted the affair as much as pos- 
sible ; his main object was to gain time, for any change of cir- 
cumstances would tend to relieve him from his dilemma ; and 
it was not until the 31st of May, 1529, that the legates opened 
their court. Even then the proceedings went on slowly. Cam- 
pegio, as the servile instrument of the pope, sought to delay 
any decision. Wolsey dared not openly to oppose his mas- 
ter's will, or hinder a measure from going forward which he 
had himself so earnestly promoted ; yet having by this time 
ascertained where the king's choice would be placed, he was 
anxious to prevent a union which in all probability would 
cause his own downfal. His secret correspondence with the 
pope was detected by the English ambassador at Rome, and 
communicated to Henry, who, as may be supposed, was much 
exasperated at Wolsey's treachery. The king was also displeased 
with Campegio, who had shown him a decretal bull annulling 
the marriage, already signed by the pope, but refused to part 
with it from his possession, or to let any one else see it. While 
the proceedings of the legantine court went slowly forward, the 
pope succeeded in arranging his disputes with the emperor on 
favorable terms, and agreed to the emperor's desire that no di- 
vorce should take place. Further pretexts for delay now were 
requisite ; in July, when nothing remained but for the legates to 
pronounce their decision, Campegio unexpectedly adjourned the 
court until the month of October, alleging that the vacation in 
the courts of law at Rome had commenced ; and on the 4th of 
August an injunction was received, forbidding any further pro- 
ceedings, as the pope would himself decide the cause at Rome, 
where the king and queen were cited to appear. 

This conduct might have been endured in a less enlightened 
age, but the authority of the pope had been publicly questioned, 
and Henry possessed a spirit not inclined to submit to such 
domination. He expressly declared that he would not degrade 
himself or his kingdom, by yielding obedience to such a 



8 Cranmer, — Life, [a. d. 1529. 

mandate. Campegio shortly after returned to Italy, and Wol- 
sey soon became sensible that his disgrace was at hand. The 
baggage of the Italian cardinal was searched at Calais, in the 
hope of obtaining possession of the pope's bull annulling the 
marriage, but it had been committed to the flames. 

The foundation of the papal power in England evidently was 
shaken, and many ecclesiastics who were still attached to the 
doctrines of the Romish church, united in resenting the conduct 
of the pontiff. From the foregoing particulars it will appear that 
the selfish, unprincipled conduct of Clement, gave the main 
impulse to the renunciation of papal authority in England : 
and the first decided shock to that power in this country, was a 
consequence of the claim to dispense with the divine ordinances 
which had been assumed by the popes. Cranmer, Anne Boleyn, 
and others, who were attached to the reformed doctrine, were 
instruments in diffusing the light of the gospel and assisting 
in the progress of the reformation, but the fabric of Romish 
domination was undermined by its own artificers. 

The embarrassment of the pope at this time was extreme ; 
he would gladly have availed himself of any expedient which 
could have been listened to both by the emperor and the 
English monarch. The object of the former was that his aunt 
should not be degraded from her rank ; he would have agreed 
to allow Henry to contract a second marriage upon the plan 
sometimes adopted in Germany, of allowing a second and infe- 
rior wife. Clement was willing to sanction this, and Cassalis, 
the English agent, in a letter dated Rome, September 18, 
1530, says, " Some days ago, the pope, in private, offered to 
me this proposal — as a thing of which he made much account ; 
that your majesty might have a dispensation to have two 
WIVES." But Henry's uneasiness proceeded from scruples against 
the pope's sanction to an illegal proceeding, and was not likely 
to be silenced by a mere repetition of the same medicine. 

We now resume the account of Cranmer. — In the summer 
of 1529, the plague raged at Cambridge, and most of the 
members of the university retired to other places. Cranmer was 
at Waltham Abbey, residing in the family of a Mr. Cressy, 
whose sons were under his care. The king had made a short 
progress into the country, to divert his thoughts under the un- 
easiness he then suffered. Having dismissed the cardinals, he 
returned towards London. On his journey he stayed a night 
at Waltham ; the royal suite were as usual lodged in the 
houses of the neighbouring gentry. Dr. Stephens, (Gardiner,) 
the king's secretary, and Dr. Fox, the royal almoner, were enter- 
tained at Mr. Cressy's. Stephens and Fox were among tfie 
most active agents in forwarding the divorce ; they rejoiced at 
thus unexpectedly meeting witjj Cranmer, whom they knew to 
be eminently skilled in the civil and canon law, and in the 
writings of ancient divines. The conversation, of course, 



A. D. 1529.] Cranmer^s introduction to the king, 9 

turned upon the subject then so much discussed, and they re- 
quested him to state his opinion. Cranmer told them that he 
had not considered the question so fully as they had done, but 
that without any reference to the self-constituted authority of 
the popes and their courts, he thought it a matter of conscience, 
whether the marriage were contrary to the word of God or not. 
Of this he considered divines to be the best judges, and their 
opinions upon the subject could be ascertained without much 
delay or expense, while their reasonings would communicate 
information whereby the king's mind probably would be re- 
lieved. 

Fox and his companion were pleased with the suggestion; 
they took an early opportunity to communicate it to the king — 
the crafty Gardiner would have given it as their own idea, but 
Fox honestly stated that Dr. Cranmer was the author. Henry 
immediately expressed his satisfaction, and directed that a mes- 
senger should be sent for Cranmer. He had then proceeded to 
Cambridge, and unwillingly returned towards London. On 
his arrival he complained to Gardiner and Fox, that they had 
mentioned his name, urging them to get him excused from ap- 
pearing personally before the king. They tried to do so, but 
Henry required Cranmer to attend, and commanded him, as his 
subject, to endeavor to forward the plan he had suggested, ac- 
cording to law, and with impartiality. Henry also stated 
solemnly, that he had long been troubled in conscience respect- 
ing his marriage with Catherine, declaring that if he could con- 
sider it a lawful connexion, he would not seek to be released. 
There is indeed good ground for believing that his scruples 
were real, and not mere pretences as the Romanists have 
asserted. Cranmer, still desirous to avoid personally engaging 
in this affair, then recommended the king to direct some of the 
ablest divines to examine the question. Henry assented, but 
required Cranmer to write upon the subject, and calling sir 
Thomas Boleyn, the earl of Wiltshire, committed Cranmer to 
the care of that nobleman, directing that he should have any 
books he might require, and a quiet opportunity to enter on his 
researches. Thus we see that the king first introduced Cran- 
mer to the Boleyns, whereas the Romanists have represented 
him as a creature of that family, introduced by them to Henry, 
to promote ambitious views of their own. 

Cranmer took his stand on scripture ground, and founded 
his conclusions on the principle that the bishop of Rome had 
no authority to dispense with the word of God. This principle 
evidently went much farther than the mere question of the king's 
marriage ; its adoption must lead to a general reformation of the 
church, both as to doctrine and practice. We may observe that 
it did so both in England and in Germany, although different cir- 
cumstances in each country led to that desirable result. Whether 
the opposition rose from the sale of pardons, or the sanctioning 

2* 



10 Craniner, — Life. [a. d. 1531. 

of an incestuous marriage, the papal authority, in reality, 
was the point in question ; that being controverted, the word 
of God was again referred to as the supreme authority. This 
principle suggested to Cranmer the plan he recommended the 
king to pursue. 

Cranmer having declared his readiness to proceed to the 
continent, and to defend his opinions even at Rome, was directed 
to proceed thither, as one of an embassy, with the earl of Wilt- 
shire. 

The opinions of several of the Italian universities in favour 
of the divorce, were obtained, but at Rome no permission for 
public discussion upon the subject was given. Cranmer resided 
for some time at Rome and in Italy; he there witnessed many 
things which satisfied him as to the real character of the pope- 
dom. His mind, like that of Luther was prepared by his study 
of the scriptures to be deeply impressed with the antichristian 
spirit of the pontiff* and his court, and their decided opposition 
to the precepts of that book which the pope claimed an exclu- 
sive power to interpret. Clement, desirous to conciliate Cran- 
mer, conferred upon him the title of grand penitentiary of 
England, which appears to have been merely a nominal office ; 
his acceptance of it only show^s that he did not then seek a 
quarrel with the see of Rome. Cranmer next proceeded to 
Germany, where he conferred with Agrippa, one of the princi- 
pal persons of the imperial court, whom he convinced by the 
arguments he brought forward. No one was found willing to 
pursue the discussion, especially as the emperor was so dis- 
pleased by the conduct of Agrippa, as to withdraw his favour 
and place him in confinement. 

Cranmer then visited other parts of Germany to ascertain 
the opinions of the protestants, and to offer assistance from the 
English monarch to the princes, who had lately been com- 
pelled by the emperor's conduct, to form the league of Smal- 
cald in their own defence. It is remarkable that the protestant 
universities were less inclined to favour the divorce than the 
Romanists, which shows that the opinions collected by the 
king's agents were obtained in a fairer manner tlian papists 
have asserted.* 

We find Cranmer in 1532 at Nuremburg, where Osmnder 
was the chief protestant minister. That reformer had given 
considerable attention to questions of a similar nature, and was 
inclined to promote the divorce. His interviews with Cranmer 
however had a more important result ; his advice and exhorta- 
tions tended much to advance his visitor in spiritual knowledge, 
and to show him the necessity of a tliorough reformation in 

* The emperor gave considerable benefices to some whg wrote against 
the divorcfs while the accounts of Henry's agent show that no more 
ilian a few crowns, which may be considered as official fees, were paid 
hy him to any one. 



A> D. 1532.] Appointed archbishop of Canterbury. 11 

the church. While at Nuremburg, Cranmer married the niece 
of Osiander, and thus again gave practical evidence of his re- 
nouncing that authority which has forbidden ecclesiastics to 
marry. The friendly intercourse between Cranmer and the 
German protestants was an important means of forwarding the 
English reformation. But his connexion with the Lutherans 
tended to fix upon his mind more firmly the idea of the corpo- 
real presence in the sacrament, although he did not adopt their 
views. He, for some years, continued to believe the Romish 
doctrine of transubstantiation. 

During Cranmer's absence from England, Warham, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, had died. That prelate was deeply at- 
tached to the erroneous doctrines of the Romish faith, except 
with regard to the papal supremacy, against which he bore open 
testimony, while he cruelly persecuted the Lollards and other 
faithful followers of Christ. Henry was aware of the critical 
situation of his affairs, and determined to appoint a successor to 
Warham, w^ho, upon principle, would oppose the Romish usur- 
pations. He therefore passed by Gardiner and the servile ec- 
clesiastics who then were among the loudest in advocating his 
measures, and chose Cranmer to fill the vacant see. For this 
purpose he was summoned home, but, having an intimation of 
the king's design, he delayed his journey on purpose to avoid 
the appointment, as we shall find he declared when before the 
Romish commissioners in the reign of queen Mary. 

It was in fact six months before Cranmer was consecrated ; 
a delay unusual in the appointment of archbishops, which cer- 
tainly does not indicate an fimbitious or grasping spirit in 
Cranmer. When his reluctance in other respects had been 
overcome, Cranmer stated to the king that he neither could 
nor would receive the archbishopric from tho pope, whom he 
considered to have no authority within the realm. The king 
then directed several civilians of eminence to state their opi- 
nions. They laid before him a mass of evidence, confirming 
the views of Cranmer, and advised that he should be appointed 
to the office by the king, suggesting, that, previously to his 
consecration, he should solemnly declare his determination not 
to act in any manner inconsistent with a minister of Christ, or 
a subject of England. 

The pope was not pleased to hear of Cranmer's promotion, 
but he felt that it was not safe to irritate the English monarch 
by opposition to his will in this instance, and the usual bulls 
were forwarded from Rome. On the 30th of March, 1533, 
Cranmer appeared in the chapter-house of Westminster, and 
there openly, publicly, and expressly, made a protestation, as a 
precaution that his oath should not be misinterpreted. This 
protest was witnessed by five civilians and ecclesiastics of emi- 
nence ; it is printed by Strype. Upon Cranmer's conduct in 
this affair the Romanists have dwelt with much asperity, but if 



12 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1533. 

the reader will examine the oath which he took, they will find 
that the decided declarations of fealty to the pope usually 
inserted in episcopal oaths were not contained therein — the 
strongest expression being, that he would aid and defend the 
papacy so far as might be consistent with his duty as a chris- 
tian minister. In fact, there was nothing in Cranmer's subse- 
quent conduct inconsistent with his oath of consecration ; nor 
was his protest needful, excepting that perhaps the prejudices 
of the times might have induced many to continue to suppose 
that the English church was necessarily dependent upon the 
church of Rome, had not the new primate thus openly declared 
the manner in which alone he would be considered as standing 
in any relation with the pontiff. The oath and the protest are 
quite consistent with each other, and requisite in connexion With 
his subsequent oath for the temporalities ; while the transaction 
is a proof of his candour and integrity, instead of being open 
to the imputations of the Romanists. Agreeing with this, we 
have his solemn declaration when about to suffer at the stake — 
that he had never dissembled until he signed the formula of 
recantation.* 

The convocation was then engaged in debate upon the sub- 
ject of the king's marriage, and shortly afler declared that a 
papal dispensation could not be accounted of sufficient power 
to set aside the divine law — this was a powerful blow at the 
claims of the papacy. 

The full manner in which the question had been examined 
during the preceding years, satisfied the minds both of Henry 
and his subjects in general, that the papal assumption of power 
to dispense with the law of God, was utterly unfounded; there- 
fore his marriage with Catherine was wholly void. Henry 
now determined to proceed with decision. He married Anne 
Boleyn in the latter end of January, 1533. Dr. Lee, bishop of 
Litchfield and Coventry officiated — the ceremony took place 
privately in the palace at Whitehall, and Cranmer's own decla- 
ration is extant, that he did not know of the union till a fort- 
night afterwards.f 

The purity of the previous conduct of the new queen was 
soon evidenced, and it became important for the nation as well 
as for Henry, that his protracted suit for a divorce should be 
concluded.]: Cranmer applied to the king upon the subject, as 

* It may bo rrnifirkrd, tlmt if Cranmor acted inconsistently with his 
oath, VVaihani did so to an infinitely jireater extent, yet his conduct is 
passed over l>y tlie Honiish historians without censure, though in this 
respect more liable thereto. 

t In a letter to Hawkins, ambassador at the emperor's Court. (See 
Ellis's I/ctters illn.«:trative of Knglish histor}', vol. ii.) Cranmer adds, 
wiiat is very apphcable to modern as well as ancient accounts of him, 
" And many other things be also reported of nie, which be mere lies 
and tales." 

t Some letters of Henry to Anne Boleyn written while the treaty 



I 



A. D. 1533.] The papal authority retiounced, 13 

appears from a letter written by him, still in the state paper 
office. The whole proceedings were conducted with regularity, 
the evidence was fully examined, and on the 23d of May the 
king's marriage with Catherine was pronounced null and void. 
Let it not be forgotten that Gardiner was an active agent in 
this affair, and that both Bonner and Gardiner wrote most 
strongly advocating that measure. Their subsequent beha- 
viourfully proved that they acted as courtiers, while Cranmer 
desired to oppose the usurpations of the papacy. 

The pope was exasperated at this proceeding in contempt 
of his authority ; he declared the divorce to be null and void, 
and threatened Cranmer with excommunication, upon which 
the new primate prepared an appeal to a general council. At 
this time he visited his diocese, where he was active in detect- 
ing the imposture of Elizabeth Barton, the nun of Kent, who 
at the instigation of the papists pretended to have communica- 
tions with Slary Magdalene and angels, and to receive divine 
revelations. It was a clumsy attempt to check the progress of 
the reformation. 

The differences between Henry and the pope had now pro- 
ceeded to such an extent, that without absolute submission an 
open rupture appeared inevitable — an opportunity for concilia- 
tion, however, was presented. The pope said, that if Henry would 
send a proxy to his court, and thus acknowledge his authority, 
he would give sentence in favour of the divorce. The bishop of 
Paris was despatched to England by the king of France with 
this intelligence, upon which it was resolved that the negotia- 
tions with Rome should be renewed, but that the opposition to 
the papal authority should not be relinquished until a favourable 
result was certain. The bishop proceeded to Rome, where 
he impressed upon the minds of the pope and cardinals that 
England might still be kept within the pale of the church. 
It was agreed to allow some delay, but if, by a certain day, 
Henry should not signify his consent to a plan devised for 
settling the affair, the pope would consider his offer as re- 
jected, and resort to extreme proceedings. Henry accepted the 
offer ; an answer was despatched to Rome, stating his readiness 
again to submit his cause to the pope, but it was winter, and the 
stipulated time expired before the messenger could arrive. 
The bishop of Paris represented the weather as the probable 
cause of the delay, and urged for a respite of six days, but in 
vain. The measures against Henry were not only resumed, 
but hurried forward. At the instigation of the cardinals of the 

for the divorce was in progress, are preserved in the Vatican. They 
were purloined from her cabinet by the papal agents, doubdess in the 
hope that they would furnish evidence of improper conduct. But 
they contain strong proofs of the correctness of her life, and convey 
a favourable impression of both parties. They are printed in the 
Harleian Miscellany, and in Turner's history of Henry VIII. 



14 Cranmer, — Life. [a. d. 1534. 

imperial faction, proceedings which usually occupied three 
days, were despatched in one. The king's marriage with 
Catherine was declared to be valid, and he was required under 
pain of ecclesiastical censures to receive her again as his wife. 
On the following day the messenger arrived, but it was now too 
late ! Clement refused to reconsider his decision. An English 
ambassador was proceeding to Rome to complete the negotia- 
tions, but on learning what had occurred, he returned home. 
It is impossible to read these particulars, without observing on 
what a slender thread human events depend, and that the breach 
with Rome, which so materially forwarded the English refor- 
mation, was effected by one of those remarkable interpositions 
of divine providence which the christian reader will frequently 
notice in history. 

The parliament assembled at the commencement of 1533, 
when decisive measures were taken for emancipating the na- 
tion from the Romish yoke. The pope's supremacy was openly 
called in question ; the earliest result was the taking away 
some of the most oppressive and secret proceedings in cases of 
heresy, and allowing the accused a trial in open court. The 
payment of certain taxes to the pope was discontinued, and by 
various other measures the papal power was entirely set aside 
in England. Thus the nation was delivered from Romish bond- 
age by a prince who certainly did not show himself opposed to 
the doctrinal errors of popery ; who, as Thuanus has ob- 
served, would in all probability have continued a willing sub- 
ject of the papacy, had a more just and prudent pontiff borne 
the sway. In these parliamentary debates the chief burden lay 
upon Cranmer. The collections from the fathers which he had 
made in former years now were most useful ; as Strype ex- 
presses it, " He proved so evidently and stoutly, both by the 
word of God, and consent of the primitive church, that this 
usurped power of the pope is a mere tyranny, and directly 
against the law of God, that the issue was the abolishing of 
that foreign papal power, and the expulsion of it out of this 
realm, by the full consent of parliament." 

Other good effects of this renunciation of the papal autho- 
rity were soon perceived. Cranmer now felt himself at liberty 
to have the scriptures translated into the English language, and 
he procured a resolution of the convocation in December 1534, 
applying to the king to decree that such a work should be un- 
dertaken. 

An oath assenting to the succession of the crown devolving 
upon the royal children by the present marriage, was now im- 
posed by authority of parliament. Some expressions used 
therein implird a renunciation of the pnpal authority, to wliich 
sir Thomas More, bishop Fisher, and other Romanists refused 
their assent, though they consented to the alteration in the suc- 
cession. Cranmer wrote to Cromwell, recommending that 



A. D. 1534.] His esteem for the Scriptures, 15 

these eminent persons might be allowed to take the oath in the 
form they were willing to admit, but his advice was not followed, 
and they were beheaded as traitors. Throughout England, only 
five individuals persisted in refusing to renounce the pope's 
authority. 

In the same year we find Cranmer preaching at Canterbury ; 
his sermons were not confined to disproving the supremacy of 
the pope, he showed that "our sins are remitted only by the 
death of our Saviour Christ." One of the regulations now 
directed to be followed was, that " the true, mere, and sincere 
word of God should be preached in the churches." The lying- 
Romish legends with which it had been customary to amuse 
the people, need not here be noticed. 

Cranmer also visited some of the dioceses of the most vio- 
lent of the Romish bishops, who strenuously opposed his pro- 
ceedings; they sent several bigoted divines, Hubberdin and 
others, to visit difierent parts of the kingdom, to counteract as 
much as possible the labours of Latimer and other gospel 
preachers employed by the influence of Cranmer and his sup- 
porters, who also took especial care that able ministers should 
be selected to preach at Paul's cross. 

In 1534, Cranmer delivered his testimony in the house of 
lords respecting general councils, then a subject much agitated. 
Strype relates, that " He much doubted in himself respecting 
general councils, and thought that only the word of God was 
the rule of faith which ought to take place in all controversies 
of religion. The scriptures were called canonical, as being 
the only rule of the faith of christians ; and these, by the ap- 
pointments of ancient councils, alone were to be read in the 
churches. The holy fathers Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine, 
in many things differed from one another, but they always ap- 
pealed to the scriptures as the common and certain standard. 
He also cited some remarkable passages out of Augustine, to 
show what difference he put between the scriptures and all 
other writings, even of the best and holiest fathers." 

This principle of appeal to the scriptures as the only au- 
thority by which matters of faith and religion are to be ascer- 
tained, was most important. It was early adopted by Cranmer 
and his associates, and formed, as we have seen, the ground for 
renouncing the papal authority, and for the subsequent mea- 
sures of reformation. The errors which still remained were 
not supported by the authority of the church or tradition, but 
rather by passages of scripture, misunderstood and improperly 
applied. This was the case even with regard to the errors re- 
specting the sacrament, and it has been well remarked, that 
" however tyranny, bigotry, ignorance, or the fear of sedition 
might hinder or arrest its progress, yet religious knowledge must 
increase, and error yield to the truth of God's holy word, in pro- 
portion as the scriptures become more known and understood. 



16 Cranmer, — Life. [a. d. 1535. 

Cranmer now urged forward the translation of the bible. 
Tindal's translations being considered objectionable, he caused 
an old English version of the testament to be divided into por- 
tions, sending one to each of the most learned amongst the bishops, 
for them to revise. The Acts were sent to Stokesley, bishop of 
London, who refused to take any part in a measure which he said 
would bring simple people into error. Cranmer expressing his 
surprise at Stokesley 's frowardness, a bystander said he could 
explain the reason. " It is a portion of the new testament, and 
my lord of London being persuaded' that Christ hath bequeathed 
him nothing in his testament, thought it mere madness to be- 
stow labour and pain where no gain was to be gotten. And 
besides this, it is the Acts of the apostles ; which were simple, 
poor fellows, and therefore, my lord of London disdaineth to 
have to do with any of them !" Cranmer at that time was 
unable to carry his design into execution in the manner he had 
intended, but he encouraged others, and Coverdale's bible ap- 
peared in 1585. 

The progress thus made in opposition to the papacy, with a 
desire to set a good example, induced Cranmer to send for his 
wife from Germany. As yet, however, he did not consider it 
expedient to bring her forward to public notice, nor did he allow 
his domestic engagements to interfere with his public duties. 
Fox thus describes Cranmer's manner of life after his advance- 
ment to the primacy, during this and the following reign. 

To avoid giving cause that the word of God should be slan- 
dered and evil spoken of, " this worthy man evermore gave 
liimself to continual study, not breaking that order which he 
in the university commonly used — that is, by five o'clock in the 
morning at his book, and so consuming the time in study and 
prayer until nine. If the prince's affairs did not call him away, 
he then applied himself until dinner-time to hear suitors, and 
to despatch such matters as appertained to his especial cure 
and charge, committing his temporal affairs, both of his house- 
hold and otlier foreign business, unto his ollicers. So that such 
things never were impediments either to his study, or to his 
pastoral charge, which principally consisted in reformation of 
corrupt religion, and in setting forth of true and sincere doc- 
trine. For the most part always being in conmiission, he as- 
sociated himself with learned men for searching out one matter 
or another, for the commodity and profit of the church of 
England. By means whereof, and his private study, he was 
never idle ; besides that, he accounted it no idle point to be- 
stow one hour or twain of the day in reading over such, works 
and books as daily came from beyond the seas. 

" Atler dinner, if any suitors were in attendance, he would 
very diligently hear them, and despatch them in sucli sort as 
every man commended his lenity and gentleness, although the 
case required that sometimes divers of tiiom were committed 



A. D. 1535.] His manlier of life and preaching. 17 

by him to prison. And if he had no suitors after dinner, for 
an hour or thereabout, he would play at the chess, or behold 
such as could play. That done, then again to his ordinary 
study, at which commonly, he for the most part stood, and 
seldom sat ; and there continuing until five of the clock, be- 
stowed that hour in hearing the common prayer, and walking 
or using some honest pastime until supper-time. At supper, if 
lie had no appetite, as many times he would not sup, yet would 
he sit down at the table, having his ordinary provision of his 
mess furnished with expedient company, he wearing on his 
hands his gloves, because he would, as it were, thereby wean 
himself from eating of meat, but yet keeping the company with 
such fruitful talk as did repast and much delight the hearers; 
so that by this means hospitality was well furnished, and the 
alms chest well maintained for the relief of the poor. After 
supper he would consume one hour at the least, in walking, or 
some other honest pastime, and then again until nine of the 
clock, at one kind of study or other. So that no hour of the 
day was spent in vain, but the same was so bestowed, as tended 
to the glory of God, the service of the prince, or the commo- 
dity of the church ; which his well bestowing of his time pro- 
cured to him most happily a good report of all men, to be in 
respect to other men's conversation, faultless, as it became the 
minister of God." 

The following account of Cranmer's preaching in the reign 
of Henry VIII. is given by an eminent contemporary, sir 
Richard Morison, " He used to preach often, and was a mini- 
ster of the heavenly doctrine. The subjects of his sermons for 
the most part were, from whence salvation was to be fetched, 
and on whom the confidence of man ought to lean. He in- 
sisted much upon the doctrines of faith and works, and taught 
what the fruits of faith were, and what place was to be given 
to works. He instructed men in the duties they owed their 
neighbours, and that every one was our neighbour whom we 
might profit. He declared what it was fit men should think of 
themselves when they had done all ; and lastly, what promises 
Christ had made, and who they were to whom he would make 
them good. And these his holy doctrines he strengthened with 
plenty of quotations out of the holy scriptures, not out of the 
schoolmen's decrees or later councils ; and he recommended 
them with great integrity of life. Thus he brought in the true 
preaching of the gospel, altogether different from the ordinary 
way of preaching in those days ; which was to treat concerning 
the saints, and to tell legendary tales of them, and to report 
miracles wrought for the confirmation of transubstantiation 
and other popish corruptions. And such a heat and conviction 
accompanied the archbishop's sermons, that the people de- 
parted from them with minds possessed with a great hatred of 
vice, and burning with a desire of virtue." 

CRANMER. 3 



18 



Cranmer. — Life. 



[a. d. 1535. 



Cranmer and his friends were at this period opposed by the 
Romanists, headed by the duke of Norfolk and bishop Gardiner. 
The struggles of these contending parties, and their alternate 
success agitated the kingdom during the remainder of Henry's 
reign ; — had Cranmer been a wavering, uncertain character, it 
is evident that he could not, humanly speaking, have maintained 
his ground. Some letters preserved among the Cotton manu- 
scripts in the British Museum, show how the royal counsellors 
were then divided, and upon the watch against each other. The 
intrigues of the different parties were exceedingly complicated, 
and it is impossible for us at this distant period clearly to un- 
derstand how some persons whose sentiments were similar, at 
times personally opposed each other, while a degree of harmony 
existed between others whose general enmity is most evident. 
Much of this, perhaps, may be attributed to the authority exer- 
cised by Henry, who threw off the political power of the pa- 
pacy, but retained its doctrinal errors. 

At the commencement of 1535, Henry again evinced a de- 
sire to be reconciled to the see of Rome, but the imperious 
temper of Paul III., then the reigning pope rendered the nego- 
tiation abortive. Cranmer ably vindicated the independence of 
general councils, and urged the necessity of suppressing the 
corruptions of the popedom; "a thundering bull," as it is 
denominated by father Paul, was fulminated, not only against 
the king, but against the whole nation of England, placing the 
kingdom under an interdict, and ordering similar proceedings 
to those which had compelled king John to place his crown at 
the legate's feet. But those days were passed ; and few modern 
Romanists would justify the pope's command to the people of 
England to rebel against their sovereign — in this and other 
respects, they have tacitly relinquished the infallibility of the 
Roman see. 

These denunciations of the pontiff, and the attachment to 
the papal authority manifested by many, both of the clergy 
and laity, rendered stronger measures requisite for the national 
security. I'lic dissolution of the monasteries was thereby 
hastened. The attachment of the monastic orders to the see 
of Rome, has always been very great — they ever have been 
**the soldiery of the pope;" their power and numbers rendered 
them im|)ortant opponents to the progress of the retbrmation 
in England, especially from their ready access to persons of 
every rank, and the influence they exercised more or less in 
every family. It was manifest that while they existed, the 
papal authority never could be wholly destroyed. Their sup- 
pression therefore became a subject for the consideration of the 
council; Cromwell was appointed to act as vicegerent, and a 
visitation of all the nionastic establishments throughout the 
land was ordered. This was speedily carried into effect, when 
the veil of pretended holiness which had thinly concealed the 



A. D. 1535.] Suppression of the smaller monasteries, 19 

vices of these establishments was removed. It was incontest- 
ably proved, that far the greater part of the monasteries were 
seats of the grossest debaucheries and most horrid vices ; 
that deceptions and frauds abounded within their walls ; that 
discord, violence, and oppression were the least flagrant of 
their crimes. 

The voice of the nation called for the termination of these 
enormities, while the wealth of the establishments rendered 
the king and the courtiers more eager for their destruction. 
The smaller monasteries were suppressed without delay. Cran- 
mer saw that such a measure was absolutely necessary, both 
from the abominations that prevailed within their walls, and 
the support they afforded to the papal usurpations ; he endea- 
voured, however, to have their revenues applied to laudable and 
useful purposes, but in this he could only partially succeed. 
While noticing the subject, it should not be forgotten that car- 
dinal Wolsey had set a recent example for such spoliation. 
Pope Clement authorized him, in 1525, to suppress forty mo- 
nastic establishments, to endow his colleges at Oxford and Ips- 
wich; in other cases similar permission had also been given. 
Thus the pope gave an example which proved most destructive 
to his interests in England. Here again we see the hand of 
God causing the selfish purposes of man to promote his glory. 
The state of Spain and Italy at this day, show us what, in all 
human probability, would now have been the situation of our 
land, had those strong holds of vice and superstition been suf- 
fered to remain. If some choice specimens of the arts were 
destroyed, surely no one who feels the importance of true reli- 
gion can for a moment weigh them in the balance against the 
advantages of these measures. The school divinity which had 
so long been a powerful means of darkening the minds of men, 
was at the same time suppressed in the universities, and the 
quadrangles were strewed with the leaves of Duns and other 
scholastic divines, whose pages were now condemned to the 
fate they so justly deserved. 

In 1535 was published a new edition of the Primer* in English, 
to which Cranmer seems to have rendered considerable assist- 
ance. This work was designed to enable the common people 
to understand their prayers and the principal parts of the pub- 
lic worship, and to do away many of the superstitions by which 
they were deceived. It contained about thirty distinct tracts, 
the contents of which for the most part gave much displeasure 
to the papists, and several of them were prohibited as soon as 
they succeeded in displacing Cromwell. The worship of the 
virgin, or putting " sure trust and hope in her," was especially 
shown to be contrary to the word of God. In "A devout 
and fruitful remembrance of Christ's passion," the error of the 
common ideas respecting the mass was pointed out. In a 

* The primer was a selection of prayers and devotional pieces. 



20 Cranmer, — Life, [a. d. 1536. 

dialogue on the ten command mcntSj the second is plainly dis- 
tinguished from the first — this tract was afterwards prohibited. 
A preface to the translation of the Dirige, or office said for the 
souls of the departed, explains the true intent of the service. 
The compiler states, that among other works of darkness and 
deep ignorance, wherein they had blindly wandered, following 
a sort of blind guides, many days and years, he accounts " the 
mumbling and pewling forth" of certain psalms and lessons for 
the souls of the deceased, to be one, and declares that the re- 
peating of them is of no use or efficacy for those that are de- 
parted. Strype says, " This book did excellent service, no 
question, in this ignorant age, and was one among the many 
good services the lord Cromwell did for religion." 

In January, 1536, queen Catherine died, when a reconcilia- 
tion between Henry and the emperor took place. The former, 
however, no longer desired to be reconciled to the see of Rome, 
but entered into further negotiations with the German protest- 
ants. But the hopes of those who were most anxious for the 
progress of the reformation, were checked by the fate of Anne 
Boleyn. She appears to have partly lost the king's affections, 
when he found himself disappointed of a son, and an unguarded 
buoyancy of spirits excited his jealousy, while the beauty of 
Jane Seymour, one of her attendants, attracted his regard. 
Anne's sister-in-law, lady Rochford, a woman whose vile cha- 
racter shortly after appeared, accused her of incestuous com- 
merce with her brother; some other individuals of meaner rank 
about the court were also said to be the queen's paramours. While 
Henry's mind, already prejudiced, was under the influence of 
these charges, a tournament took place at Greenwich, in which 
lord Rochford successfully engaged. Anne, as might be ex- 
pected from her lively character, took much interest in the 
sports, and by the misrepresentations of enemies her con- 
duct appeared to Henry to be of a criminal character. He 
liastily retired to Westminster, leaving orders that the queen 
should remain in her apartments.* The next day she proceeded 
towards London, anxious to ascertain the cause of the king's 
sudden displeasure, when tlie duke of Norfolk and others of 
the council came on board her barge, and produced an order 
for her committal to the Tower. On being informed of the 
charges brought against her, she declared their falsehood and 
her own innocence. On entering the prison, her courage failed 
for a short time. A succession of hysterical fits came on, 
during which she uttered some incoherent expressions which 
were misrepresented by her enemies, but when these emotions 
had subsided, she again protested her innocence ; at the same 



* Mr. Tumor rrfors to some documents, which indicate that the plana 
against Anno Boleyn were arranged previously to this scene at Green- 
wich, ii. 436. 



A. D. 1536.] Trial and execution of Anne Boleyn, 21 

time considering her fate as sealed, she expressed her hopes of 
another and a better world. Religion indeed was her only- 
support, all the circumstances which surrounded w^ere cal- 
culated to depress. Her own uncle's wife, the duchess of Nor- 
folk, was appointed to be her companion, whose enmity 
was gratified by the office of drawing from Anne admissions 
which might be distorted into evidence against her. The pro- 
ceedings need not be minutely detailed. Only one of the basest 
of those who were accused could be brought, by any means, to 
make any thing like an acknowledgment of guilt, and that was 
only a general expression, " that he deserved well to die," nor 
were any of them confronted with the queen. The queen her- 
self wrote a very powerful letter to the king, in which she 
averred her innocence. She was tried before the peers of the 
realm, and by them found guilty of treason, in having said 
and done what was " to the slander of the issue between the 
king and her." But the trial was little more than a mockery 
of justice ; only twenty-six of the fifty-three peers of the realm 
were present ; the duke of Norfolk, a bigoted Romanist, and a 
jealous relative, was the presiding officer of this court, w^hich 
sat within the Tower ; and so little were the charges brought 
home, that Materin, a foreigner who was in London at the time, 
has stated, that the magistrates of London and several others 
who were there, said they saw no evidence against Anne ; only- 
it appeared that it Vv^as resolved to be rid of her. Others have 
given similar testimony. 

On the sentence being pronounced, Anne Boleyn again 
made a solemn protestation of her innocence, expressing a 
steadfast hope of another and a better life, and a belie^that 
God had taught her to know how to die. Upon the fourth day- 
after condemnation, (May 19th, 1536,) she was beheaded, and 
suffered with constancy and courage which has seldom been 
equalled. Her last words were, "To Christ I commend ray- 
soul." There is now no necessity to enter into a defence of 
this much-injured queen. It has been well observed, that every 
attempt to blast the character of Anne Boleyn has only tended 
to confirm the general belief of her integrity. Henry himself 
offered perhaps the strongest testimony in her favour, when, on 
the third day after her execution, he married Jane Seymour. 
The important part in the reformation taken by Anne Boleyn, is 
sufficiently pointed out by the bigoted Romanist cardinal Pole, 
who, writing to the king soon after, styles queen Anne the 
king's "domestic evil," "the cause of all his errors," "and 
that from her descended all disorders ;" a protestant will not 
desire more favourable testimony. 

Cranmer's conduct in this, as in almost every important act 
of his life, has been misrepresented. He was neither inti- 
midated, nor ductile to Henry's purposes. He seems to have 
been the onlv person who offered any opposition to the king's 

3* 



22 Cranmer.^Life, [a. d. 1536. 

proceedings. Henry appears to have expected this, and that 
he might avoid Cranmer's personal remonstrances, immediately 
upon the queen's committal to the Tower, the primate was or- 
dered to confine himself to Lambeth. But he wrote to the king, 
and though he did not venture to assert Anne's innocence of 
charges which he was told could be proved, he expressly said, 
he thought " that she could not be culpable." When a fuller 
statement of the accusations against the queen had been com- 
municated to him, he still professed himself unconvinced, though 
he considered her deserving of punishment if guilty. After the 
queen's condemnation, a suit to annul her marriage with Henry 
was brought before the archbishop for judgment. This it was 
his duty, as metropolitan, to determine. The queen confessed 
certain lawful impediments to her marriage, probably some pre- 
vious engagement or promise to another suitor. Whatever they 
might be, it was Cranmer's duty to pronounce sentence accord- 
ing to the evidence before him, and the admission of the party 
herself of course was conclusive. He declared the marriage 
void, but that he showed " zeal" to arrive at this decision, as 
the Romanists have asserted, is an untbunded allegation. 

That the queen herself siiould acquiesce in this decree, or 
even promote it, is not surprising ; — maternal aifection would 
render her anxious not to excite the king's displeasure farther, 
lest it should fall upon her child; and she could not be unwilling 
to die by a less painful end than burning, which was the sentence 
pronounced upon her; — other reasons also might be alleged. 

The important part taken by Anne Boleyn in promoting the 
reformation, required this notice of the proceedings against her; 
no protestant need to wish that any obscurity should be thrown 
over them. It may be observed, that the hasty marriage of 
Henry to another protestant prevented the pope from attempt- 
ing to reconcile the kingdom with the see of Rome. 

The fall of the queen encouraged the Romanists more boldly 
to oppose tlie attacks then making upon their superstitions; 
but while the convocation was engaged in discussing their 
complaints, the king sent a message, enjoining that all things 
should be abolished which could not be supported by scripture. 
Cranmer spoke strongly to the same effect, while bishop Fox, 
wlio had lately returned from Germany, told the clergy wliat 
was passing in other countries, and that it was impossible for 
them any longer to keep men ignorant of the word of God. 
Atler several debates, a series of doctrinal articles were sanc- 
tioned by the clergy, which were set forth in the following year, 
(15?^,) with considerable enlargements and additions, by royal 
authority. l^his work was entitled "The Institution of a 
Christian Man," but was more commonly known by the title 
of the bishops' book. Although not free from the errors of 
popery, particularly on the subject of the sacrament, yet there 
is far more of gospel truth in these articles, than had been 



A. D. 1537.] The Bishops' book. 23 

publicly set forth by authority in England for many centuries. 
The great doctrine of justification by faith is clearly inculcated; 
upon that point Cranmer succeeded in introducing a statement 
drawn up by himself, which will be found in the present volume. 
On other points also there is a decided departure from the 
church of Rome, and the principle that matters should in all 
respects be conformed as much as possible to the primitive 
church, is maintained. Much of the work is derived from the 
confession of Augsburg, and other writings of the Lutheran 
divines.* The mixed contents of this w^ork show how severe 
the contest was between the different parties. 

The work was imperfect, owing to the influence of Gardiner, 
and the darkness of the king's views on many subjects, which 
interfered with and limited Cranmer's statements of the truth, 
nor was his own mind yet fully emancipated from error upon 
several points. As Strype observes, " We find many popish 
errors here, mixed with evangelical truths ; which must either be 
attributed to the defectiveness of our prelates' knowledge as yet 
in true religion, or as being the principles and opinions of the 
king, or both. Let not any be offended herewith, but let him 
rather take notice what a great deal of gospel doctrine here - 
eame to light, and not only so, but was owned and propounded 
by authority, to be believed and practised. The sun of truth 
was now but rising, and breaking through the thick mists of 
that idolatry, superstition, and ignorance, which had so long 
prevailed, and was not yet advanced to its meridian brightness." 

The error respecting the Lord's supper being retained by the 
king and all the leading ecclesiastics, led to some painful results 
about this period. Several most excellent followers of Christ, 
who had adopted the clearer and more decided view^s of the 
Swiss reformers, w^ere prosecuted for heresy, and the histories 
of that day contain in particular, the account of the noble stand 
made by the martyr Lambert against Henry and his ecclesias- 
tics. Gardiner and his party urged forward these prosecutions, 
while Cranmer and Cromwell rather w^itnessed than encouraged 
the course which Henry chose to adopt. In fact, the arguments 
and writings of these reformers, especially those of Frith, ap- 
pear first to have shaken the Romish views of the sacrament 
held by Cranmer. The archbishop's officers wished Frith to 
make his escape while in their custody, but he refused, consi- 
dering it his duty publicly to declare his opinions. 

The minds of the leaders were not sufficiently enlightened 
to discern the errors of Romanism respecting the sacrament ; 
nor did they clearly perceive that the principles of Christianity 
forbid the infliction of punishment upon others, because they 
differ in matters of faith. But the particulars recorded of the 
part taken in these tragedies by the principal reformers, 
owing to the official situations they held, and from Lambert 

* See Dr. Lawrence's Bampton Lectures. 



24 Cranmer. — Life. [a, d. 1537. 

having appealed to the king, show evidently that they were ac- 
tuated by a different spirit from that of Gardiner and his col- 
leagues. No protestant will defend or excuse the conduct of 
Cranmer, but it is evident that he acted from the conviction of 
his own mind, though erroneous, and not from any disposition 
for sanguinary intolerance, or time-serving submission to the 
views of others. The remarks of Melancthon on the case of 
Servetus, twenty years afterwards, show how little even the 
mildest characters of that day understood, in this respect, the 
principles by which their actions ought to have been governed. 

In August, 1537, another work was finished, the completion 
of which filled Cranmer with the most lively joy. It was the 
printing of a new and revised translation of the holy bible in 
English, under his own patronage. Coverdale had completed 
a version, the printing of which was finished in October, 1535. 
This edition was allowed by royal authority. In 1536, Crom- 
well published injunctions to the clergy, in which he com- 
manded that the whole bible, in Latin and in English, should 
be provided for every church, and laid in the choir, where all 
persons should be encouraged to look and read therein. Gardiner 
and the papists strongly opposed that translation ; they told 
the king that there were many faults in the book, on which 
account it ought to be suppressed. Henry asked whether it 
maintained any heresies. Gardiner did not venture to assert 
this, upon which tlie king emphatically replied, '*Then, in 
God's name, let it be issued among our people." On another 
occasion the king and Gardiner having argued in defence of 
tradition, as equal in authority to the writings of the evange- 
lists, Cranmer replied in a satisfactory manner, and f lenry bade 
Gardiner be silent, adding, "My lord of Canterbury is too old 
a scholar for such truants as we are." 

As soon as Cranmer received some copies of the new edition, 
lie exclaimed, "Glory to God," and immediately forwarded oi;ie 
to Cromwell, requesting him to obtain permission from the 
king, that it might be bought and read within the realm. 

Upon learning that the authorization had been granted, he 
wrote that it afibrded him more joy than the gift of a tliousand 
pounds. In anotlier letter to Cromwell, fiftc^cn days after, he 
again refers to the royal authority having been procured, and 
eays, " For the which act, not only the king's majesty, but also 
you, shall have a perpetual laud and memory of all them that 
are now, or hereafter shall be, God's faithful people, and the 
favourers of his word. And this deed you shall hear of at the 
great day, when all things shall be opened and made manifest. 
For our Saviour Ciirist saith in the gospel, that whosoever 
shrinketh from him and his word, and ig abashed to profess 
and set it forth before men in this world, he will refiise him at 
that day; and contrary, whosoever constantly doth profess 
liirn and his word, and studicth to set that forward in this 



i 



A.^D. 1538.] Eagerness to read the Bible. 25 

world, Christ will declare the same at the last day, before his 
Father, and all his angels, and take upon him the defence of 
those men." By the royal authority, commandment was shortly 
after made, that every curate should possess an English bible, 
that he might learn to know God and to instruct his parishion- 
ers, and that every abbey should have six. 

The people rejoiced to hear the word of God in their own 
tongue. The copies set up in St. Paul's and other churches, 
were constantly surrounded by persons eagerly listening to 
those who read aloud the word of life. We, who are familiarly 
acquainted with the contents of the bible from an early age, 
can form no adequate idea of the sensation caused amongst the 
people at large, by the completion of this great w^ork ; especi- 
ally when in the year 1539, a revised edition, called Cranmer's 
great bible, was published ; for the former edition, consisting 
only of fifteen hundred copies, could but imperfectly supply the 
demand. The size of the volume and its price, prevented the 
generality of the people from being acquainted with its con- 
tents, excepting by means of the public readers already men- 
tioned ;* but these readings led to conversations among those 
who were thus assembled, and the knowledge of divine truth 
was more generally diffused. It became a general and a 
popular concern, in which all ranks and ages felt themselves 
personally interested. In the preface to the bible, Cranmer 
gave many excellent suggestions to all who perused the work. 
Fox and Strype have recorded several interesting narratives, 
connected with these proceedings and the bitter opposition of 
ignorant and bigoted Romanists. From a letter of Grafton, the 
printer, it is evident that the only patrons he looked for among" 
the prelates were Cranmer, Shaxton, bishop of Salisbury, and 
Latimer, bishop of Worcester. 

The great eagerness with which the English bible was re- 
ceived by the people, is referred to by Robert Wisdom, a priso- 
ner in the Lollards' tower during this reign. Being accused 
of having said, that he trusted "to see the day when maids 
will sino" the scripture at their w^heels, and ploughmen at their 
plough," he replies, " I thank God, through my Lord Jesus 
Christ, I have seen that day, and I know husbandmen and men 
of occupation at this day, as well seen or better, in the scrip- 
tures, than a great many priests ; yea, thjin some that w^ere 
heads, and are called rabbi and master doctor at every word. 
The name of God be blessed for it !" 

Nor should we forget that this great w^ork has come down 
to us, sealed with the testimony unto death of three who were 

* The price of the English bible, of the largest volume, (and as ^et 
scarcely any small ones had been printed,) was fixed, in 1540, to be ten 
shillings unbound, and not above twelve shillings well bound and clasped, 
but this was equal to five pounds at the present day. A bible now may 
be purchased for three or four shillings, about equal to fourpence at that 
period. 



26 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1539. 

main instruments in setting forth the first edition of the English 
scriptures. Tindal the first translator, Rogers the editor of the 
first edition, and Cranmer the great patron and supporter of the 
work — all tliese laid down their lives in this cause ! 

The dissolution of the larger monasteries now took place. 
For the particulars connected with these proceedings, the reader 
must be referred to the histories of that period, where he will 
find numerous facts relative to those establishments, which 
cannot be controverted by all the artful excuses of the Ro- 
mish historians. These measures were warmly opposed by 
the papists, who availed themselves of the influence they still 
exercised over the ignorant and superstitious minds of the great 
mass of the people. They excited rebellions in Lincolnshire 
and other parts of England, which were suppressed with dif- 
ficulty. The emperor and the pope rejoiced to hear of the 
commotions, and the latter employed cardinal Pole, a member 
of the royal family of England, who was now at open enmity 
with Henry, to encourage the insurrections. Pole was sent to 
the Netherlands as legate, that he might be near at hand to 
the English rebels. He was supplied with a papal manifesto, 
in which the. pope (Paul HI.) strongly approved the rebellion, 
and exhorted the people to attend to the recommendations of 
Pole ; he also had letters to the kings of Scotland and France, 
and the regent of the Low Countries, admonishing them to 
further his proceedings. But before the cardinal could ar- 
rive at his post, the insurgents were suppressed, and their 
leaders executed — the Romish historian Saunders styles them 
martyrs ! After residing some months in the Netherlands, Pole 
found he could hope for little success from the limited corre- 
spondence he was enabled to hold with the malcontents ; and 
being discountenanced by the ]X)tentates of France and the 
Low Countries, whose political interests at that time rendered 
peace with England desirable, he returned to Italy. The im- 
portant measure of the dissolution of the larger monasteries 
proceeded rapidly, and the deceptions which had been practised 
within their walls were publicly exposed. Many minute par- 
ticulars have been related respecting them by Fuller and others, 
which do not rest upon the uncertain authority of one or two 
writers, as modern Romanists would represent, but are de- 
scribed by several contemporary authors, who refer to facts 
then generally known, and to public documents, some of which 
still remain, while it is certain that many others were destroyed 
during queen Mary's reign, by commissioners appointed for 
that purpose, whose instructions have been preserved ! Nor was 
the provision made for the monks and nuns so insufficient for 
their sup]X)rt, as often has been represented. The pensions 
allowed to those not notoriously of infamous character, were 
enough to maintain single persons in comfort at that day. In 
some instances the allowances thus given amounted to more 



A. D. 1539.] Suppression of the larger monasteries, 27 

than half of the full revenues of the establishments. This 
should be noticed, as it shows the reason why so many of the 
monks, although papists in their hearts, obtained preferment 
in the church, from patrons who were anxious to resume the 
pensions they had to pay out of the revenues of which they had 
become possessed. Private cupidity thus materially impeded 
the exertions of Cranmer and his associates ; for while these 
Romish ecclesiastics outwardly conformed to the profession re- 
quired, they could not be prevented from exercising most inju- 
rious influence in private. 

Cranmer well knew the necessity for suppressing the 
monastic establishments ; in the homily on good works, he de- 
scribes their evils in strong terms, but he laboured earnestly for 
the right application of the revenues. He maintained that only 
the lands originally granted by the kings of England should 
revert to the present monarch, and urged that the remainder 
should be employed to endow additional bishoprics and 
schools, and various laudable and christian institutions. These 
designs were thw^arted by the profuseness of Henry, the ava- 
ricious cupidity of the courtiers, and the importance of forming 
a party sufficiently powerful, whose interests might bind them 
to oppose the restoration of the strong holds of popery. That 
the revenues might have been employed more to the glory of 
God and the benefit of mankind cannot be doubted, so far as 
we can discern, but we may believe that all was overruled for 
good. The possession of these large incomes by lay proprie- 
tors benefited the land, while. the dispersion among so many 
rendered their resumption in the reign of Mary impracticable, 
and popery, though it again ruled tor a time, fell without a 
contest when deprived of the royal support. The most violent 
fulminations of papal wrath were denounced against all con- 
cerned in the suppression, and the part taken by Cranmer ren- 
dered him still more obnoxious at Rome. Meanwhile his per- 
severing efforts, and those of his friends, for a more worthy use 
of these treasures, made the king displeased with the promoters 
of the new learning, especially as they openly advocated their 
views in the parliament. Gardiner and his party did not suffer 
so favourable an opportunity to pass unregarded, and the situa- 
tion of political affairs increased their influence with the king, 
which they strengthened by writing and preaching against the 
papal supremacy. 

The act of six articles accordingly was brought forward by 
the popish party under the royal sanction, and promoted by 
the king's personal influence. It was preceded by a recom- 
mendation from Henry, that a committee should be appointed 
to devise articles of religion which might be generally adopted. 
The leaders of each party were selected for this purpose, but 
their conferences ended as such attempts always have done. 
The duke of Norfolk then introduced proceedings which led to 



28 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1539. 

the enactment of the act just mentioned, which was emphati- 
cally termed " the whip with six string-s." By this law six of 
the principal errors of popery were again established upon pain 
of death. 1. The doctrine of transubslantiation ; 2. The 
Romish communion in one kind ; 3. Priests were forbidden to 
marry;* 4. Monastic vows were declared binding; 5. Private 
masses were sanctioned ; 6. Confession was enjoined. 

Cranmer argued boldly against the act ; he spoke repeatedly 
and at great length, against the measure; and when the king 
desired him to absent himself from the debates, he firmly but 
respectfully declined to comply, urging that he felt it was God's 
cause. Henry resolved to force the measure through ; he came 
down in person to the house, where he declared himself in 
favour of the bill, which was urged forward with unusual rapi- 
dity, being introduced in the house of lords on the 7th of June 
and passed on the 10th. Cranmer, of course, was unable per- 
sonally to contend with his sovereign ; yet he not only opposed 
the passing of the act, but also protested against it. In his 
answer to the Devonshire rebels some years afler, Cranmer 
expressly states, that this law would not have passed had not 
the king come down in person to the parliament house. The 
arguments of Cranmer were so weighty that the king desired 
to have a copy of them; whatever were the faults of Henry, 
he was too well aware of the value of his faithful and sincere 
counsellor, to allow him to be injured for the decided and bold 
part he had taken in this atfair.f 

The archbishop, being greatly depressed at this measure, 
Henry sent the duke of Norfolk and ('romwell, with others of 
the nobility, to dine with him at Lambeth, when they publicly 
delivered a message, that it was the king's pleasure he should 
be comforted, and not discouraged by what had passed ; at the 
same time declaring that Cranmer had showed himself "greatly 
learned, and also discreet and wise." Cranmer acknowledged 
the king's kindness, and solemnly added, '* I hope in God that 
hereafter my allefrations and aiithontics shall take place, to the 
glory of God and the commodity of the realm," — yet the Ro- 
mish historians have not hesitated to state that he not only 
complied with the enactments of the law, by sending his wife 
back to (iormany, but that he also wrote to the king apologiz- 
ing for and excusing his opposition to the act ! It is true that 
he did send his wife again to her rolations, to avoid the penalty 
of death denounced by the act, while many of the Romish ec- 
clesiastics openly manifested their disregard both of the luiman 

* At first the act was frainrd so as only to restrain priests 'from laitH 
ful coiuioclions. Witli niiirh dilhculty, Cronuvrll giiccrrdt^i against 
the Romanists in making the prohibition genornlTy applicable to all 
cases. ^ • 

t Stiype states reasons for believing that one point much urged by 
Cranmer in these debates was, that the peimlty of death ought not to he 
impo8«xl for iiurr matters (»f opinion. 



A. D. 1539.] His opposition to the act of Six Articles, 29 

and the divine law, as well as of their own vows of chastity ; 
but he never subscribed, or declared, an assent to the law of six 
articles, nor was subscription required from any of the clergy. 

Cranmer's writing sent to the king, was of a very different 
description from an excuse for his conduct. — It was his 
opinions against the six articles. In obedience to the king he 
caused his secretary to write them out. The secretary having 
done so went to deliver the book to his master, but found he 
had left Lambeth and was gone to Croydon. His own chamber 
also was locked, and he had to proceed to London. In this 
dilemma he resolved to take the book with him, having been 
commanded to be very careful of it ; for merely writing such a 
document was death by the law recently enacted. The secre- 
tary then took boat for Paul's wharf with some of the king's 
guard. When they arrived at Bankside they found the king 
in his barge, with many attendants, seeing a bear baited at the 
water's edge. The guard who were with the secretary dared 
not pass the king, accordingly the wherry was rowed near to 
the bank, when the bear breaking loose, such confusion ensued, 
that the book was loosed from under the secretary's girdle, and 
fell into the river. He called to a bearward to secure it ; the 
man did so, but before the secretary could get to him he had 
shown it to a priest, who perceiving the book was written 
against the six articles, told the bearward that whoever claimed 
it would be hanged. This fellow was a rank papist ; finding 
that the book belonged to the archbishop, he refused to give it 
up, and told the secretary he hoped that both he and his master 
would be hanged for it. He continued in this mood, refusing 
to listen to the advice of a relative, who at the desire of the 
secretary, invited him to supper, and offered him a sum of 
mon ey if he would return the book, telling him that he would * 
get neither thanks nor reward if he persisted. This was the 
result, for what had happened was told to Cromwell, who found 
the man the next morning at the court, looking for some of the 
Romish party to whom he might give the book. Cromwell at 
once took it from him, threatened him for meddling with papers 
belonging to a privy counsellor, and sent him away. 

A general attempt was made to enforce the act of six articles, 
and in fourteen days five hundred persons, in London alone, 
were dragged from their families and committed to prison for 
offences against this law ! The prisons being too small to con- 
tain them, some of the companies' halls were used as places 
of confinement. Audley, then lord chancellor, went to the king, 
and represented the necessity of stopping such prosecutions. 
Cromwell, Cranmer, and some others, supported his applica- 
tion ; orders were given to liberate the prisoners. Bonner, 
however, and his associates, were permitted to harrass and put 
to death some individuals, while a deep impression was made 
upon the spirits of the protestants both at home and abroad by 

CRANMER. 4 



dD Cranmer,—Life, [a. d. 1540. 

these measures. The German princes also interposed, and 
Melancthon wrote a taithtul epistle to Henry. The act of six 
articles however promoted tiie reformation in a manner its 
authors never intended. Many excellent men were compelled 
to take refuge on the continent for a time, from whence they 
returned much advanced in christian knowledge by their com- 
munications with the German and Swiss reformers. 

During the dinner at Lambeth already mentioned, Cromwell 
made an observation to the archbishop upon the remarkable 
manner in which tlie king took in good part from him, that 
opposition to his royal will which he would not endure from 
others, and contrasted the primate's conduct with tliat of 
Wolsey. This led to an observation from the duke of Norfolk; 
a personal altercation ensued between Cromwell and the 
duke, w^hich the latter never forgave. Cromwell, who had 
lately been created earl of Essex, now stood on the brink of 
ruin. He had many enemies in consequence of his sudden 
rise, and was unpopular among the people on several public 
accounts. The king heard numerous complaints of his minister, 
and listened to them the more readily from being displeased with 
Cromwell, who, after the death of Jane Seymour, had promoted 
the marriage with Anne of Cleves, with whom he was much 
disgusted. Henry was also enamoured of the niece of the duke 
of Norfolk, who strongly urged proceedings against Cromwell. 
By the influence of the Romish party, Cromwell was accused 
of heresy and other charges, which however rather sJiow the 
malice of his enemies than any great delinquency on his part, 
and, as Fuller states from sir Edward Coke, his adversaries 
deemed it safer to proceed by a bill of attainder than to allow 
the usual form of trial. At this juncture only one among 
CromwelTs numerous friends and dependents appeared in his 
behalf — that one was Cranmer. He has been represented as 
attaching himself to Cromwell while his fortunes prevailed, and 
then joining his enemies ; but he stood forward and pleaded for 
his associate, though in opposition to the royal will and the 
united intluence of those in power. 

Cromwell, however, was not guiltless in a legal point of 
view : he had not only favoured the reformers to an extent then 
unlawful, but he had in some instances spoken of limiting the 
power of the king, and had accepted bribes, which was too 
commonly practised at that day. The laws against treason 
also then comprehended much which would now merely be 
called errors in judgment. It was not, therefore ditlicult to fmd 
such grounds to justify the proceedings against Cromwell, that 
Cranmer could not refuse to acquie^•ce in the sentence pro- 
nounced against him. Cromwell, however, may be considered as 
suffering in the cause of the retbrmation, if not for its doctrines; 
and although the Romanists have fiilsely represented him as 
recanting previous to liis death, his prayer when on the scaffold 



A. D. 1540. J His opinion respecting education. 31 

sufficiently manifests that he died in the profession of the real 
" catholic" faith, not that of the church of Rome. He was 
beheaded July 28th, 1540. Strype, in his JMemorials, fully shovvg 
how indefatigable Cromwell was in promoting the reformation. 

Cranmer now stood almost alone. Bishop Fox was dead, 
Cromwell was condemned and executed, Latimer and Shaxton 
were deprived of their bishoprics and imprisoned under the act 
of six articles. When thus exposed, the enemies of the truth 
did not allow him to remain long unmolested. Even while 
Cromwell was a prisoner, they caused Cranmer to be included 
in a commission which was directed to inquire concerning the 
articles of religion, and to explain some of the chief doctrines. 
They had prepared a document according to their own views, 
but Cranmer refused his assent, although his remaining friends 
urged him to comply, representing the danger of opposition to 
the king's will. He replied that " there was but one truth in 
the articles to be concluded upon, which though they hid for a 
time, the king would at length perceive, and he knew the king's 
nature so well, that he would never afterwards credit or trust 
them." Cranmer further warned them to beware, and faithfully 
to d ischarge their consciences. He went to the king and prevailed 
so far as to have much that was objectionable put aside. The 
result was a statement of doctrine mainly derived from the 
Augsburg confession, though in some points warped to meet 
the views of the Romanists, and an abatement of the penalties 
of the act of six articles. The recent events, however, induced 
Cranmer to retire as much as possible from public life, and to 
confine himself to the duties of his station. The archbishop 
was now in the furnace of atfliction, and he was supported from 
on high. His energies rose with the difficulties in which he was 
placed — he bore open testimony to the truth and prevailed. 

Among other occupations in the year 1-540, we find Cranmer 
busily engaged in reforming the ecclesiastical foundation at 
Canterbury, and establishing a grammar-school there. Some 
of the commissioners w^ould have restricted this to gentlemen's 
children, but Cranmer differed from them, saying, that *' poor 
men's children are many times endued with more singular gifts 
of nature, which also are the gifts of God, as with eloquence, 
memory, apt pronunciation, sobriety and such like; and also 
commonly more apt to apply to their study, than is the gentle- 
man's son delicately educated."* The others again urged that 
disorders in the state were likely to ensue from brino-jng up 
children above the vocation of their parents. To this Cranmer 
replied in strong terms, that "utterly to exclude the poor man's 
son from the benefit of learnino-, is as m.uch as to say that 
Almighty God should not be at liberty to bestow his arreat gifls 
of mercy, but as we and other men shall appoint them to be 

* An author of that day recommends gentlemen, " who know not 
how to write," to notch sticks to assist their memory. 



32 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1541. 

employed, according to our fancy, and not according- to his 
most godly will and pleasure, who giveth his gifts of learning 
and perfections in all sciences, to all kinds and states of persons 
indifferently." He added other observations of equal force, 
concluding thus, " If the gentleman's son be apt of learning, let 
liim be admitted ; if not, let the poor man's child that is apt 
enter in his room." (.ranmer was actively employed at this 
period in causing various superstitious relics to be removed 
from the churches under his care. We also hnd him concerned 
in the passing of a law which was intended to check the luxu- 
rious life of some among the clergy. 

In the autumn of 1541, Cranmer was again placed in a 
situation of political dithculty, by being informed of the<lissolute 
course of life which had been pursued by the queen, Catharine 
Howard. After consulting with the lord chancellor, the earl of 
Hertford, Cranmer, as usual, pursued the straight-forward 
course, and putting the documents which had been communi- 
cated to him into the king's hands, left the event. Had her 
guilt not been fully established Cranmer must have fallen ; he 
knew this, but he used no undue means to influence the result. 
The particulars are fully related by Herbert. — The Romanists 
have represented it as *'a plot woven by the industry of the 
protestants," but the queen's misconduct was proved by incon- 
testable evidence. The documents which still remain prove her 
culpable, and show that no conspiracy against her existed. She 
admitted her guilt upon the scaffold, where she was executed 
with lady Rochford, who had been the confidante of her pro- 
fligacy. It was not forgotten that the latter had been the 
principal cause of the deaths of Anne Boleyn and her own 
husband. In the same year, Cranmer was engaged in correct- 
ing disorders which prevailed in All Souls' college, Oxford. 

in the convocation which met a. d. 154*2, the Romanists 
again brouglit forward their accusations against the English 
version of the scriptures, and by their influence it was resolved 
that the bible should not be used in the churches until it had 
been revised, for which purpose committees were appointed. 
Their design evidently was, not to produce an improved ver- 
sion, but to adopt any means which might impede the progress 
of scriptural knowledge. To perplex matters still further, 
Gardiner brought forward a long list of Latin and Greek words, 
which he pretended could not bo correctly rendered into Eng- 
lish. He therefore desired that they should be left untrans- 
lated which of course would have rendered the bibles almost 
usele.^ to unlearned men. Cranmer defeated these designs by 
obtaining the king's sanction f<)r the committal of this revision 
to the universities, instead of the Romish prelates. He also 
urgod additional measures for the revisal of the service-books, 
and fur depriving the images of saints of their ornaments 
and other marks of respect which were still common. The 



A. D. 1543.] The King's Book. 33 

invocation of saints in the litany, had been ordered to be dis- 
continued in 153S. Nor did Cranmer rest until he had obtained 
the king's authority for a selection of prayers and offices of de- 
votion in the English language. This, however, was not printed 
till the year 1546. It is known by the name of king Henry Vlll.'s 
Primer, and contains much that is excellent, though some ad- 
dresses to the virgin, and other traces of popish superstitions 
remain. A letter written by Cranmer, in 1544, to the king, 
shows his anxious desire to introduce what may be considered 
as the commencement of congregational singing. Thomas 
Sternhold, one of the first translators of the psaJms into English 
metre, was groom of the robes to Henry VHI., and of the bed- 
chamber to Edward VI. 

In 1543, the contest as to reading the scriptures was again 
renewed. Directions were given for compiling another formu- 
lary of faith. Tindal's version of the bible was prohibited, 
while subsequent versions were allowed, but only under strict 
limitations. None w^ere to read the bible aloud, without license 
from the king or the ordinary. Noblemen and gentlemen 
might cause the bible to be read to their families and servants ; 
and householders might read it to themselves privately. But 
all women, except the families of the nobility and gentry, and 
all artificers, labourers, or servants, with all persons of the 
lower classes, were strictly prohibited from perusing the woid 
of God ! Nor was a free use of the English scriptures again 
permitted during that reign.* 

The free use of the scriptures being thus prohibited, another 
exposition of faith was set forth, under the title of " A necessary 
Doctrine and Erudition for any Christian Man." It is very 
similar in contents to the former publication, entitled 
" The Bishops' Book," but although in many respects it set 
forth the Lutheran doctrines, more of the Romish leaven was 
infused, doubtless by the interference of Gardiner, at whose 
instance it was called " The King's Book." This will clearly ap- 
pear to the reader upon his comparing the sta,tements respecting 
the doctrine of justification in the two *' books." Gardiner was 
so satisfied with this compilation as to write, " the king's ma- 
jesty hath, by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, componed all 
matters of religion." Cranmer, on the other hand, wrote anno- 
tations upon the "necessary doctrine," refuting some of the 
errors contained therein, and stating the doctrines of truth. 

* That this prohibition was generally enforced, appears from a 
writing upon a spare leaf of a copy of the treatise on inventions, by 
Polydore Verc^il, which was penned by a shepherd to whom it had 
belonged. "When I kepe JVI. Letyrner's shype, I bout thys boke, 
when the testament was obbergated that shepherdys might not rede 
it. I pray God amend that blyndness. Wryt by Robert Wyllyams, 
keppyng shepe upon Seynbuiy hill, 1516." Shepherds now may read 
the bible.. 

4* 



34 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1543. 

The copy is still extant, and some of his remarks are printed in 
this work.* 

In 1543, we find Cranmer much troubled by disputes which 
prevailed annong the clergy at Canterbury. He sent for them 
to Croydon, where he reasoned, instructed, and exhorted them 
as the occasion required. To allay the discord which had 
arisen, he appointed six preachers to officiate in the cathedral, 
three of each party, telling them it was the king's pleasure. 

The dissatisfaction of the Romish clergy against Cranmer, 
now began to assume a darker form. It was commonly re- 
ported that " Gardiner had bent his bow to shoot at some of the 
head deer," and at his instigation or encouragement, several of 
the clergy of Canterbury engaged in machinations against the 
archbishop. Meanwhile proceedings were commenced at Wind- 
sor which caused three honest men to be burned for heresy ; 
it was intended to implicate persons of rank, and even to include 
the new queen, Catharine Parr, who was a zealous supporter of 
the reformation. The plan was disappointed by a servant of 
the queen, through whose activity an emissary of Gardiner 
was WMy-]aid, and some papers taken from him : these being 
shown to the king, he pardoned all against whom proceedings 
had been commenced. This ruthless zeal of Gardiner so dis- 
gusted Henry that he never liked him atlerwards, nor placed 
the same degre of confidence in him as formerly. 

The history of the plot against Cranmer is minutely given by 
Strype, but it is too long for more than a brief summary to be 
given in this place. When the articles and depositions against 
the archbishop had been prepared, they were presented to the 
king, who at once saw the real object of the accusers. He 
ordered his barge one evening to Lambeth, and desired Cranmer 
to come on board. He then told him that he now knew who was 
the greatest heretic in Kent, giving him the papers at the same 
time. Cranmer was much surprised and grieved at their con- 
tents; he entreated Henry to appoint a commission to examine 
the accusations. Henry ro])lied, he would do so, and nominated 
the archbishop for one. Cranmer entreated this might not be, 
as it would appear unfair to appoint a man to be judge in his 
own cause, but Henry insisted on his nomination, adding he 
was sure that Cranmer would speak "the truth of himself if he 
liad offended." The primate letl the investigation to two of his 
officers named ('ocks and Hussoy, who being secret favourers 
of popery, the delincjuents had nearly escaped; but the arch- 
bishop's friends showed the king it was necessary that more strict 
examiners should be appointed. Dr. Leigh and Dr. Rowland 
Taylor were then sent, who caused the papers of the suspected 

* The manuscript copy exists in tlic library of Corpus Christi Col- 
lege, Cambridge. A part was printed by Strype; the whole is given 
in L. Richmond's Fathers of the English church. 



A. D. 1544.] Plots against Cranmer. 35 

parties to be seized ; letters from Gardiner were found, and the 
whole plot was discovered in a few hours. Among others, Dr. 
Thornton and Dr. Barber were implicated. The former had 
been appointed suffragan of Dover by Cranmer, and frequently 
ate at his table ; the latter was a civilian whom the archbishop 
salaried and retained in his family, as a constant adviser in mat- 
ters relating" to the ecclesiastical law ! 

When the letters of these two men were forwarded to Cran- 
mer, he was much shocked at the discovery of their treachery. 
Taking them apart at his palace of Bekesbourne, he told them 
that some persons in whom he placed much confidence, had 
disclosed his secrets and had even accused him of heresy. He 
then asked their advice how such delinquents should be dealt 
with. These two perfidious men loudly censured such villainy, 
atfirming that the traitors deserved death ; one of them added, that 
if an executioner were wanting, he would perform the office him- 
self! At these words the archbishop lifted up his eyes to heaven, 
and said, " O Lord, most merciful God, in whom may a man 
now trust ! It is truly said, Cursed is he that confideth in man, 
and putteth his trust in an arm of flesh. There never was ^ man 
handled as I am, but thou O Lord, hast evermore defended me, 
and lent me one great friend and master (meaning the king) with- 
out whose protection I were not able to stand one day ; I praise 
thy name therefore." He then turned towards them, demanding, 
" Know ye these letters, my masters ]" They immediately fell 
down upon their knees, imploring forgiveness, and confessing 
hov/ they had been tempted to join these machinations. " Well," 
said Cranmer, *' God make you both good men, I never de- 
served this at your hands; but ask God forgiveness, against 
whom you have highly offended. If such men as you are not 
to be trusted, how should I live ? I perceive now that there is 
no fidelity or truth among m.en ; I am brought to this point now, 
that I fear my left hand will accuse my right hand. I need not 
much marvel thereat, for our Saviour Christ truly prophesied 
of such a world to come in the latter days. I beseech him of 
his great mercy to finish that time shortly." He forgave them, 
and never again alluded to their treachery, but he dismissed 
them from his service. Such was the conduct of Cranmer when 
his own personal safety was aimed at. His forgiveness of in- 
juries was so notorious that it became a by-word, " Do my 
lord of Canterbury an ill turn, and you make him your friend 
for ever." Some who have treated his memory hardly, as 
they could not deny this distinguishing trait in his character, 
have endeavoured to represent his forgiveness of injuries to be 
no virtue, saying that resentment is effaced by present interest 
in such minds as they would have us believe Cranmer's to have 
been. But the case of Thornton and Barber effectually dissi- 
pates this false representation. Cranmer's interest in their case 
evidently was, not to let such persons escape with impunity ; 



36 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1544. 

still less to interpose and prevent their experiencin^f that just 
punishment which the king wished to inflict upon all who had 
joined in the conspiracy. If we fully examine the particulars 
of this history, we shall see that Cranmer was actuated by the 
gospel principles, which command us to forgive our enemies — 
with those who consider it a proof of weakness so to do, the 
follower of Christ need not argue. 

The confessions of some of these men were printed by Strype. 
He found a paper apparently written by Cranmer about this 
period, *' On the consolation possessed by christians against the 
fear of death;" and adds, "compiled, I guess, as well for his 
own use, being not inapprehensive of his ticklish station and 
danger from so many implacable enemies which he had, as 
also to be inserted in the king's book." 

The papists were never weary of their attempts against Cran- 
mer. They persuaded a bigoted Romanist, sir John Gost- 
wick, member for Bedfordshire, to charge the archbishop of 
heresy in the parliament-house, on account of some sermons 
preached in Kent. Henry was not a monarch who would sufier 
such proceedings. Inquiring how this Bedfordshire knight 
should be so well informed of what passed in Kent, he called 
him " varlet," and threatened to treat him severely if he did not 
acknowledge his fault to Cranmer, and implore pardon ; adding, 
*' If they do so now, what will they do with him when I am 
gone]" Gostwick followed the royal advice without delay. 

Another remarkable instance of Henry's interference for 
Cranmer is recorded. Tiie papists in the privy council be- 
sought the king to give them leave to examine the cliarges 
against Cranmer, and to commit him to the Tower if they 
found occasion; assuring the king if that were done many 
would come forward against him with just accusations who 
were now afraid to do so. Henry discerned their purpose, but 
consented that (Jranmer should be called before the council on 
the day following, and gave them leave to commit him to the 
Tower if they saw sufhcient cause. 

At midnight the king sentforlhe archbishop to tell him what 
had passed. He thanked his majesty for the previous notice, 
and expressed his willingness to be committed to the Tower, 
if he might afterwards be fairly heard. Henry stood amazed 
at his simplicity, and told him that when once in prison, three 
or four false knaves would easily be found to witness against 
him. Henry then directed Oanmc^r to reqiiest the council to 
contront his accusers with him, and if they refused to do this, 
lie was to produce a riniif, which the king then gave him, by 
which they would know that the aflliir was revoked from thorn 
for the royal determination. 

The following morning, Cranmer was eiimmoned to attend 
t)ie council at eight o'clock, but was kept waiting in the anti- 
room among the attendants nearly an hour. Dr. Butts the 



A. D. 1544.] Enmity against Cranmer, 37 

king's physician, informed Henry of this new promotion of the 
archbishop to be a serving-man. " It is well enough," replied 
Henry, "I shall talk with them by-and-by." At length Cran- 
mer was admitted. The counsellors told him that a complaint 
was made, that he, and others by his permission, had infected 
the realm with heresy, and therefore it was the king's pleasure 
that he should be committed to the Tower for trial. Cranmer 
reasoned with them, and urged that his accusers might be 
brought forward, but finding this was refused, he produced his 
majesty's ring. At the sight of it, they rose and went to the 
king, fearful of the consequences of their conduct. Henry gave 
them that reception which he was accustomed to give to those 
with whom he was seriously displeased ; saying, he perceived 
well how the world went among them, and commanded them 
to lay aside their malice towards the primate. This was the 
last attempt against Cranmer while Henry lived. The king 
possessed much discernment ; referring to a change in Cran- 
mer's armorial bearings, from three cranes to three pelicans, 
he told him to be ready like the pelican, to shed his blood 
for his spiritual children who were brought up in the faith of 
Christ, adding, " You are likely to be tasted at length, if you 
stand to your tackling." 

There is another anecdote connected with these plots against 
Cranmer. Sir Thomas Seymour spoke against him to the 
king, accusing him of niggardly conduct, and a design to amass 
wealth for his children by adopting a penurious and improper 
style of living. Henry took no notice of this complaint till 
some days after, when he sent sir Thomas to Lambeth with a 
message, at the archbishop's dinner hour. Seymour now found 
how widely different the case in reality was from what he had 
stated, and saw that ample provision was made for the house- 
hold and for visitors, as well as a liberal supply for the poor, 
while all was conducted with propriety. On his return Henry 
sternly inquired, "Dined you not with my lord]" Seymour 
perceived the king's meaning, and, kneeling down, entreated par- 
don for having made a false report. The king rebuked him se- 
verely, saying, that he saw through their devices, and knew 
that their desire was to be allowed to participate in the bishop's 
lands, as they had done in the estates of the monasteries ; but 
in this they should be disappointed, and as for Cranmer, he 
well knew that the archbishop injured himself by his liberality 
and hospitality. Besides keeping a proper order in his house- 
hold, suited to his station, Cranmer always had several stran- 
gers staying with him ; being desirous by his intercourse with 
them to promote their spiritual welfare, and also to forward 
the firreat work of the reformation. Thus the attention he 
manifested towards the earl of Cassilis, who was taken prisoner 
at the battle of Solway, in 1542, was the means of effecting a 



39 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1545. 

change in his views, and that nobleman afterwards became a 
promoter of the reformation in his own country. 

A more pleasing- evidence of Cranmer's influence with the 
king-, was the gradual adoption of several prayers in English 
for the public daily services. This was a most important step 
towards a more spiritual form of worship, in which the people 
might feel themselves interested. Gardiner ami the papists, of 
course, endeavoured to counteract this measure. Another im- 
portant work which Cranmer earnestly laboured to effect, 
was a reformation of the canon law; but at that time he could 
only accomplish some preliminary arrangements. He suc- 
ceeded, however, in abolishing the creeping to the cross, with 
other superstitious observances. He, by this time, had begun 
to introduce a more regular system of preaching than formerly 
had been customary. Henry also directed him to prepare a 
formulary whereby the mass might be changed into a commu- 
nion. It was evident that the reformers were again exercising 
a beneficial influence. 

Henry's death now approached. Upon discovering a new 
instance of the treachery of Gardiner towards the queen,* he 
ordered him to be excluded from the council, and even from 
the royal presence, and having had his last testament drawn up 
afresh, he ordered Gardiner's name not to be again included in 
the list of his executors. In other respects the will remained un- 
altered, the king's ill state of health probably having prevented 
him from giving that complete revision which would have 
excluded some directions that partook of popish super- 
stition. The Romish party now rapidly lost ground in the 
king's favour. Their leader, the duke of Norfolk, in his turn, 
was charged with high treason, and though his oftences do not 
appear to have deserved to be so called, yet he fell within the 
letter of the law. He was attainted and condenmed ; but tlie 
decease of Henry, on the day appointed for his execution, saved 
Norfolk from experiencing the fate of Cromwell, to whose 
death he had been so instrumental. 

The following particulars relative to the death of Henry VIII. 
are from Fox. ** After long languisbing, infirmity growing 
more and more upon him, his physicians at length perceiving 
that he would away, and yet not daring to discourage him 
with death, for fear of the act past before in parliament, that 
none should speak any thing of the king's death, (the act being 
made only for soothsayers and talkers of prophecies,) moved 
them that were about the king to put him in remembrance of 
his mortal state and fatal infirmity. Which when the rest were 
in dread to do, M. Denny, boldly coming to the king, told him 
what case he was in, to man's judgment not like to live, and 
therefore exhorted him to prepare himself to death, calling 

* See the liifc of Catherine Parr. 



^ 



A. D. 1546.] Death of Henry VIIL 39 

himself to remembrance of his former life, and to call upon 
God in Christ betimes for grace and mercy, as becomes every 
good christian man to do. 

*' Although the king was loth to hear any mention of death, 
yet perceiving the same to rise upon the judgment of his phy- 
sicians and feeling his own weakness, he disposed himself more 
quietly to hearken to the words of exhortation, and to consider 
his past life. Which though he much accused,* yet, said he, 
the mercy of Christ is able to pardon me all my sins, though 
they were greater than they are. M. Denny, being glad to 
hear him thus speak, required to know his pleasure, whether 
he would have any learned man sent for to confer with, and to 
open his mind unto. The king answered, that if he had any, 
he would have Dr. Cranmer, who was then at Croydon. M. 
Denny asking whether he w^ould have him sent for, ' I will 
first,' said the king, ' take a little sleep, and then, as I feel my- 
self, I will advise upon the matter.' 

" After an hour or two, the king awaking, and finding his 
feebleness increase, commanded Dr. Cranmer to be sent for ; 
but, before he could come, the king w^as speechless, and almost 
senseless. Notwithstanding, he reaching his hand to Dr. Cran- 
mer, held him fast, but could utter no w^ords, and scarcely w^as 
able to make any sign. Then the archbishop, exhorting him 
to put his trust in Christ, and to call upon his mercy, desired 
him, though he could not speak, yet to give some token with 
his eyes, or with his hand, that he trusted in the Lord. Then 
the king, holding him with his hand, did wring the archbishop's 
hand in his, as hard as he could, and so shortly after departed." 

Fox w^as intimate with Morice, the archbishop's secretary, 
and there can be no doubt that this account of the last moments 
of Henry is correct. Without offering any observation there- 
on, it may be well to say that Fox states several circumstances 
which tend to show the intention of Flenry, if he had survived, 
to have proceeded with the reformation. Fox adds, " Bat the 
secret workings of God's holy providence, which disposes all 
thinnfs according after his own wisdom and purpose, thought it 
good, rather by taking the king away, to reserve the accom- 
plishment of this reformation of his church, to the peaceable 
times of his son Edward, and Elizabeth his daug-hter, whose 
hands were yet undefiled with any blood, and life unspotted 
with any violence or cruelty." | 

* A French author of that day, named Thevat, a friar, states, that seve- 
ral English persons of rank had told him that the king in his latter days 
spoke with much compunction of his conduct towards queen Anne Bo- 
leyn. This is better authenticated than the tale of Saunders, which re- 
presents him as repenting the dissolution of the monasteries. 

t Many persons will be surprised to hear that Hemy VIII. was a 
monarch highly popular amongst his subjects, and that his death was 
very generally lamented ; bwt this appears beyond a doubt from the tes- 
timony of contemporary historians. Strype has noticed it, and observes. 



40 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1546. 

PART II. 

Cranmer in the Reign of King Edward the Sixth, 

Henry VIII. was succeeded by Edward VI., then a youth in 
the tenth year of his age. His reign was short, but his virtues 
and piety are recorded by every historian : even the Romanists 
scarcely attempt to depreciate his memory. During his reign 
the reformation proceeded with activity, and although much 
was left imperfect, yet the foundation was so firmly laid, that 
through the divine blessing, it withstood the violence of queen 
Mary, his successor. 

When we examine into English history we find that many 
causes united to oppose the labours of the reformers. During 
the two preceding reigns, the regal office had been administered 
with an authority almost unlimited: the sceptre was now in 
the hands of a child, and consequently the executive power 
rested with the ministers. Two of the principal, Wriothesly, 
lord chancellor, and Tonstal, the bishop of Durban), were 
Romanists, and in political ability they far exceeded the 
earl of Hertford and Cranmer, the leaders of the protestants.* 
The earl of Hertford, afterwards duke of Somerset, was ap- 
pointed protector by general consent ; his relation to the young 
king gave him a claim to that otlice, while his talents were not 
sulFicient to excite the jealousy of his opponents. He was also 
expressly limited from acting without the advice and consent of 
the other executors. The disposition of Cranmer, as we have 
seen, did not incline him to take a loading part in political affairs; 
he neither possessed, nor desired to assume that influence by 
which Romish primates of former days had virtually ruled the 
nation. Tlius the short reign of Edward VI. exhibited a stormy 
conflict of parties, the leaders of which sought chiefly to pro- 
mote their own individual interests. These, it is true, inclined 
them generally to favour the reformation, and Cranmer, with 

"This kinp, notwithstanding ills rif]:orous govpmmont, and his round 
(h aiing with nianvt to tho taking away of thoir lives, lived and died 
highly beloved of liis subjects, whatever were the reasons of it; whether 
it were some of those prinec ly qualities and exeellent aceoniplishmenls 
that he was endued with, or the suppressing the eeclesiastical power, 
which was so oppressive to tlie p<^oplc." The more fully we are aware 
of the extent to which the profligacy and tyranny ot the church of 
Rome had nrocer (led. the less we arc surprised at this. The various 
executions during Henry's reign liaving been carried into effect hy sen- 
tence of law, he api)ears to have had no impression upon his mind that 
th<*y were wrong. 

* The extent of Romish influence nt the commencement of this roiffn 
appeared from the magnificent exhibition of popish ceremonial nt the 
funeral of Henry. The conduct of the chancellor, however, soon caused 
his power and intluence to l)e lessened, and the protestants were enabled 
lu proceed with more activity. 



A. D. 1546.] Accession of Edward VL 41 

the most pious of his associates, was enabled to do much in 
promoting the truth. That they did not effect all they might have 
done is more than probable, but certainly those cannot fairly 
enter upon this question who do not estimate the peculiar cir- 
cumstances of those times, and the situation of England, both 
in its foreign and domestic relations, which were more compli- 
cated at that period than in almost any other of its history.* 

One of the earliest measures connected with ecclesiastical 
affairs, afler the accession of Edward, was for the bishops to 
take out new commissions from the king, authorizing them to 
hold their respective offices. Cranmer set the example, and 
his conduct in thus departing from the high assumptions of the 
Romish clergy was one cause of their displeasure against him. 
It is probable that the archbishop thought this measure would 
assist to prevent those prelates who were still attached to 
Romanism from being active in opposing the reformation, but 
doubtless it also proceeded from the little estimation in which 
Cranmer held his lionours and titles. That he set lightly by them, 
appears from a letter written by him to Gardiner, in May, 1535, 
when that busy prelate had represented the archbishop's title, 
" Primate of all England," as inconsistent with the king's su- 
premacy. An extract may be inserted here as illustrating this 
trait in the character of Cranmer. After having shown that the 
titles were not inconsistent, he says, "All this notwithstanding, 
if the bishops of this realm pass no more of their names, styles, 
and titles, than I do of mine, the king's highness shall soon 
order the matter betwixt us all. And if I saw that my style 
were against the king's authority, whereunto I aai specially 
sworn, I would sue myself unto his grace that I might leave it ; 
and would have done so before this time. For I pray God 
never be merciful unto me at the general judgment, if I per- 
ceive in my heart that I set more by any title, name, or style 
that I write, than I do by the paring of an apple, further than 
it shall be to the setting forth of God's word and will. Yet I 
will not utterly excuse me herein. For God must be judge, 
who know^eth the bottom of my heart, and so do not I myself. 
But I speak for so much as I do feel in my heart. For many 
evil affections lie lurking there, and will not lightly be espied. 
But yet I would not gladly leave any just thing at the pleasure 
and suit of the bishop of Winchester, he being none otherwise 
affectionate unto me than he is. 

" Even at the beginning of Christ's profession, Diotrephes 
desired to bear the pre-eminence in the church, as saith St. John 
in his last epistle. And since, he hath had more successors 

* To say nothing of negotiations with the continental states, the pro- 
tector in the early part of this reign was involved in a war with Scot- 
land. Scarcely had this been terminated when the papists stirred up 
insurrections at home, which were followed by the dissensions among 
the nobility that terminated in the destruction of Somerset. 

CRANMER. 5 



42 Cranmer, — Life, [a. d. 1546. 

than all the apostles had, of whom have come all these glorious 
titles, styles, and pomps into the church. But I would that I, 
and all my brethren, the bishops, would leave all our styles, 
and write the style of our offices, calling ourselves the apostles 
of Jesus Christ ; so that we took not upon us the name vainly, 
but were so even in deed. So that we might order our dioceses 
in such sort, that neither paper, parchment, lead, or wax, but 
the very christian conversation of the people, might be the let- 
ters and seals of our offices. As the Corinthians were unto 
Paul, unto whom he said. Ye are our letters, and the signs of 
our apostleship." 

The proceedings of Cranmer at the coronation, and the open 
manifestation of piety by the protector, showed their determina- 
tion to promote the progress of divine truth. One who could use 
in sincerity the prayer which was customarily offered up by 
Seymour, could not be a Romanist in principles or practice. 

In Strype, Burnet, and other historians, will be found a 
minute account of the progress of the reformation during 
the short reign of Edward VI. The result may be thus 
summed up. The worship of images was prohibited ; the saints 
and the virgin were no longer allowed to usurp any of that 
honour which is due unto God alone. — Transubstantiation and 
the sacrifice of the mass were no longer substituted for the 
true doctrine and regular administration of the Lord's supper. 
— The free use of the scriptures in the vulgar tongue was per- 
mitted to persons of every rank and condition. Human tradi- 
tions were not referred to, as equal or superior in authority to 
the word of God. — Public prayers were no longer offered in an 
unknown language. — The clergy were not prohibited from 
marriage. — Belief in purgatory, indulgences, and all the gainful 
traffics of the Romish church were no longer sanctioned. But 
the results attained in that short reign w^ere not confined to 
these benefits, considerable as they are. The great doctrine, 
that salvation is by Christ alone, was fully set forth to the 
people as the only ground for their hope and confidence — as 
the source of good works and holiness of heart and life, and 
this no longer obscured by the addition of man's devices, but 
fully and freely preached to all. The writings of the reformers, 
with the records of their proceedings, show that in no period 
of our history has the rock of salvation been more fully ex- 
hibited, or with more simplicity and power, than in those days. 
Let us remember that during the reign of Henry these blessings 
had been very imperfectly attained. It is true that the 
main fabric of popery had been demolished, and much of the 
rubbish of that system had been removed, but little of tlie spi- 
ritual edifice was built up. All the advantages just cnufTK}- 
rated were attained during the six years in which the influence 
of Cranmer prevailed, although limited and thwarted in many 
respects. This summary may give some idea of what we owe 



A. D. 1546.] Progress of the Reformation, 43 

to him and to the faithful witnesses who laboured with him in 
life, and bore testimony with him in death. 

Nor is it difficult to adduce undoubted evidence that the pro- 
gress here described actually was made. The book of homilies, 
the forty-two articles of religion drawn up by Cranmer and 
Ridley, the English liturgy and communion book, the catechism 
of dean Nowell, with Cranmer's short instruction in the chris- 
tian religion — his treatise against unwritten verities, his defence 
of the true catholic doctrine of the sacrament — the proposed 
improvements in the canon law, — the general diffusion of know- 
ledge respecting the errors of popery, — the care taken to select 
faithful and zealous preachers — the numerous publications 
setting forth gospel truth w^hich issued from the press — but 
above all, the many editions of the English scriptures printed in 
this reign — all these are evidences which yet survive, and bear 
testimony to the active proceedings of the reformers of that 
period. 

Cranmer's personal concern in the various labours just de- 
scribed is generally admitted, and is a sufficient answer to the 
allegations which represent him as an ambitious and active 
partisan in the political proceedings of that day, for one whose 
mind was so fully occupied by the subjects already mentioned, 
could not be found directing measures so contrary. What 
were considered the duties of his official station required his 
continual presence in the council, and frequent reference to him 
for advice ; but he appears rather to have withdrawn from 
political power than to have sought it. 

One of the earliest proceedings was to cause a general visita- 
tion of the kingdom, (which was divided into six districts,) by 
persons furnished with authority to promote the work of reforma- 
tion, who were accompanied by preachers of ability to set forth 
the truth. The articles and injunctions prepared for these 
visitors are given by Strype in his Memorials. They show 
both the wisdom and care of the chief promoters of the good 
work, and also exhibit the state of corruption and super- 
stition in which the bulk of the nation was still involved. 
Among other important injunctions, the due observance of the 
Lord's day was required ; the bishops were to be careful to 
ordain none but such as were learned in the scriptures, and to 
inquire whether the word of God and the faith of Christ were 
preached purely and sincerely in every cure ; also whether the 
clergy moved the people to hear and read the scriptures in 
English. 

As preaching ever has been one of the most efficient means 
for diffusing the light of divine truth, Cranmer's attention was 
early called to the compiling of a book of homilies ; an im- 
portant and necessary work at that time, when a very small 
proportion of the clergy were able to prepare sermons for their 



44 Cranmer, — Life. [a, d. 1547. 

congregations.* Gardiner's concurrence in this work was re- 
quested, but he opposed it as much as possible, and with 
others of his party declared that no innovation whatever in 
religious matters could be made during the king's minority.f 
Cranmer, however, proceeded, and having himself written the 
homily on salvation, communicated it to Gardiner, who said he 
would admit the statements it contained, if they " could show 
him any old writer that wrote how faith excluded charity in the 
office of justification." This was not difficult to do, but Gardi- 
ner was determined not to be satisfied, and continued to wrangle 
on this subject. At that period he was confined in the Fleet, 
whither he had been sent by the council for his opposition to 
the proceedings of the government, which he had with much 
pertinacity endeavoured to counteract. He blamed the arch- 
bishop exceedingly "for troubling the people with a needless 
speculation," as he termed it — namely, " that we be justified 
by faith, without all works of the law." He said this was unne- 
cessary, *' because in baptism we are justified being infants," 
before we can talk of the justification w^e strive for ; " for all 
men receive their justification in infancy in baptism, and if they 
fall after baptism, they must arise again by the sacrament of pe- 
nance." But it is unnecessary to dwell upon the cavils, the errors, 
the railing, or the sophistry of Gardiner. The doctrines he ad- 
vanced were not peculiar to himself; full replies to them will 
be found in the writings of every reformer, particularly in the 
volumes written by Cranmer himself immediately with reference 
to their discussions. Another subject of displeasure to this 
bigoted Romanist, was the order that a copy of the translation 
of Erasmus's paraphrase on the new testament should be set 
up in every church. The proceedings of Gardiner before his 
imprisonment, and during its continuance, plainly show the dif- 
ference of the treatment he received, compared with that which 
he and his associates inflicted upon the followers of the truth 
in the succeeding reign. The opinion of the foreign reformers 
respecting the homilies, was, as may be supposed, widely dif- 
ferent from that of Gardiner. In an epistle to the church of 
England, Bucer spoke highly of them ; he " commended 
much the homily of faith," the nature and force of which was 
so clearly and soberly discussed ; and wherein it was so well 
distinguished from faith which was dead. He much approved 

* Wamer obsrrvcp, that thr jrroatost hindcrancc which Cranmer met 
with in his drsign of refonnation was the niisorablc condition of the 
parochial clcrp:y, and the want of able men to propagate the doctrines 
of trntii throughout the kin«:doni. 

t Some images having been plucked down and destroyed at Portsmouth, 
Gardiner complained bitterly of such proceedings. He said that "such 
as were affectrd with the principle of nrraking down imajres were hogs 
and worse than hogs, and were ever so considered in England, being 
called Lollards." 



A. D. 1548. J Cranmer's views on the Sacrament. 45 

of " the manner of treating concerning the misery and death we 
are all lapsed unto by the sin of our first parent, and how we 
are rescued from this perdition only by the grace of God, and 
by the merit and resurrection of his Son ; and how hereby we 
are justified in the sight of God, and adopted into the number 
of his children and heirs ; and then showing what ought to be 
the study and work of those that are justified and regenerate. 
So that, by this full and dexterous restitution of Christ's doc- 
trine, his kingdom was so fully explained to the people that no 
relics of the old leaven could remain long in any parts of our 
ceremonies or discipline." He and other foreign divines strongly 
urged Cranmer to proceed onwards in the work of reformation. 
Melancthon, in particular, departing from the course he too 
often pursued, recommended the use of the plainest terms on 
controverted subjects, such as could not be misunderstood. 

The act of the six articles, which prevented all discussion 
upon subjects connected with religion, was now repealed by the 
interference of Cranmer. Also the act against Lollards, with 
every act by which men could be made to suffer for any reli- 
gious opinion which was not considered as opposed to the 
christian faith. By the provisions of an act restraining persons 
from treating the sacrament of the altar with levity or contempt, 
the laity were restored to communion in both kinds. 

The visitation throughout the kingdom was now completed. 
Many abuses had been corrected, numerous relics of super- 
stition were removed from the churches, and the reading of the 
English bible was encouraged, Gardiner's opposition to the latter 
measure was one of the causes of his imprisonment. This pro- 
ceeding of the council, however, made that busy, meddling prelate 
to be accounted the champion of his party, and exhibited him 
as a sufierer for religion. He was liberated after a few months' 
confinement, when the proceedings which he so warmly op- 
posed had received the sanction of parliament. He returned 
to Winchester, but his conduct there induced the council to 
send for him again to London, and to require his residence 
in the metropolis; shortly after he was again committed to 
prison. 

In the early part of 1548, the communion book was compiled 
by several prelates and divines who had been appointed for 
this purpose. The particulars of their discussions are given 
by Burnet, and are interesting, as they exhibit to us Cranmer's 
mind freed from those errors upon the subject of the Lord's 
supper by which it had been so long enthralled. The following 
account is given by Strype. " Ridley, reading Bertram's book 
of the body and blood of Christ, was sharpened to examine 
more accurately the old opinions of the presence of Christ's 
flesh and blood; and looking into ecclesiastical authors he 
found it greatly controverted in the ninth century, and learnedly 
written against, which made him begin to conclude it none of 

5* 



46 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1548. 

the ancient doctrines of the church, but more lately brought 
into it. These his thoughts he communicated to archbishop 
Cranmer, which was about the year 1546 ; whereupon they 
both set to examine it with more than ordinary care, and all 
the arguments that Cranmer gathered about it he digested into 
his book. Nor was the good archbishop ashamed to make a 
public acknowledgment in print of this as well as of his other 
popish errors, in his answer to Dr. Smith, who, it seems, had 
charged him with inconstancy." The reply to Smith is as 
follows : — 

*' He understood not my book of the catechism, and there- 
fore reporteth untruly of me, that I in that book did set forth 
the real presence of Christ's body in the sacrament. Unto 
which false report I have answered in my fourth book, the 
eighth chapter.* But this I confess of myself, that not long 
betbre I wrote the said catechism 1 was in that error of the 
real presence, as I was many years past in divers other errors, 
as of transubstantiation, of" the sacrifice propitiatory of the 
priests in the mass, of pilgrimages, purgatory, pardons, and 
many other superstitions and errors that came from Rome, 
being brought up from youth in them, and nousled therein for 
lack of good instruction from my youtli, the outrageous floods 
of papistical errors at that time overflowing the world. For 
the which, and other mine offences in youth, 1 do daily pray 
unto God for mercy and pardon, saying, Good Lord, remember 
not mine ignorances and offences of my youth. 

" But after it had pleased God to show unto me by his holy 
word a more perfect knowledge of his Son Jesus Christ, from 
time to time as I grew in knowledge of him, by little and little, 
I put away my tbrmer ignorance. And as God of his mercy 
gave me light, so through his grace I opened mine eyes to 
receive it, and did not wilfully repugn unto God and remain in 
darkness. And I trust in God's mercy and pardon for my 
former errors, because I erred but of frailness and ignorance. 
And now I may say of myself as St. Paul said, when 1 was 
like a babe or child in the knowledge of Christ, f spake like a 
child and understood like a child. But now that I am come^ 
man's estate, and growing in Christ through his grace atid 
mercy, I have put avvay that childishness." (p. 402, .*3.)t 

This subject now occupied much of the public attention. Peter 
Martyr having lectured against transubstantiation at Oxford, 

* ('ranmer hrrc refers to his own work on the sacrament. 

1 In the library of Corpus Christi College, Canibri(l<:e, among the 
Parker I\ISS., is "a thin ni»le b«)ok" of Crannier's eoiiet ruing the sacra- 
ment, whieii Stryix» eonjeeiiires to b<:! "his meditations and conclusions 
when he set hiniself accurately to examine the sacramental contro- 
versy, and fell off' from the opinion of the carnal presence." Strypo 
also considers that Cranmer was the means of hrini^jing Peter Martyr to 
the clearer views of this subject, which that reformer afterwards stated 
in his defence of the ancient and apostolical doctrine. 



A. D. 1548.] The new Service Book. 47 

was interrupted by the papists, who conducted themselves in a 
very disorderly manner. The council then directed that a re- 
gular disputation should be held, in which proper order should 
be observed. This was accordingly done. At Cambridge 
similar public discussions took place. They were summed up 
by Ridley, who was then more fully master of that subject than 
any other English divine. The particulars of these disputations 
are given by Fox. The substance of Martyr's discourse was 
,>published both in Latin and English. 

His own diocese received early attention from Cranmer, 
particularly the city of Canterbury, which had been kept in much 
darkness by the Romish ecclesiastics who combined so actively 
against the archbishop during the last reign. He now ap- 
pointed six preachers to officiate in that city, all of whom were 
protestants. Their labours were blessed in the conversion of 
many, as appears by the number of martyrs who in the follow- 
ing reign suffered there the torment of fire for their profession 
of the gospel. One of these preachers was Becon, a laborious 
divine, whose writings were very useful in promoting the truth, 
and are among the most valuable remains of the British 
reformers, though scarcely known at the present day. The 
new service-book was brought into public use in the autumn of 
this year, 1548. It was grounded upon the liturgies of the 
primitive church, divested of most of the Romish additions, and 
retaining the phraseology of scripture. Of the language used 
in this work we may observe, that it was compiled before the 
pedantic phraseology, which became general some years after- 
wards, had affected the simplicity of the English tongue, and if 
we compare the translations of ancient prayers contained therein, 
with modern renderings, we shall be impressed with the value 
of the reformers' writings, when considered only in that point 
of view. Considerable progress now had been made in removing 
the errors of popery, but the representation contained in a letter 
of Paget to the protector, written in the following year, as 
given by Strype, was but too true. " The use of the old religion 
is forbidden by a law, and the use of the new is not yet printed 
in the stomachs of eleven out of twelve parts of the realm ; 
what countenance soever men make outwardly to please them 
in whom they see the power resteth." Many of the clergy who 
were attached in their hearts to popery, read the English liturgy 
and the homilies, so as to make them unintelligible to the people. 

Cranmer had to contend with many ecclesiastics of this 
description ; but he proceeded with his accustomed mildness 
and forbearance. An instance of this appears in his conduct 
towards the vicar of Stepney, who formerly had been abbot of 
Tower-hill. That unworthy pastor w^ould commonly disturb 
the protestant lecturers in his church, in the midst of their 
sermons, if he liked not their doctrine, by causing the bells to 
be rung or " beginning to sing with the choir before the sermon 



48 Cranmer, — Life, [a. d. 1550. 

was half done ; and sometimes by challenging the preacher in 
the pulpit; for he was a strong, stout, popish prelate." At 
length Underhill, one of the gentlemen pensioners, a person of 
good family and well respected, came to reside in the parish. Find- 
ing that the vicar persisted in his opposition to the law, he took 
him to the archbishop at Croydon, and stated the particulars of 
his conduct. Cranmer dismissed him with a gentle rebuke, 
bidding him to do so no more. Underhill remonstrated at this 
lenity, as encouraging the opposersof the truth, adding, '* If it 
ever come to their turn they will show you no such favour." 
" Well," said Cranmer, " if God so provide, we must abide it." 
As Strype relates, " his opinion was, that clemency and good- 
ness, as they were more agreeable to the gospel which he 
laboured to adorn, so they were more likely to obtain the ends 
he proposed than rigour and austerity." 

The ambitious and unprincipled conduct of the lord admiral, 
Seymour, brother to the protector, led to his attainder in 1549. 
The unpopularity of the duke of Somerset was increase-d by his 
proceedings against so near a relative, and other circumstances. 
TJie papists eagerly promoted these discontents among the 
people, who were further agitated by the opinions diffused 
among them by some of the fanatics active in the recent popular 
disturbances in Germany, w^ho had fled to this country. Their 
opinions were considered dangerous to the christian religion, 
as well as to the good order of the state, and a commission was 
issued to Cranmer and thirty-one other persons, to inquire 
respecting these seditious fanatics, and all who opposed the 
truth. Several persons were brought before the commissioners, 
and prevailed upon to recant, but their comprehensive powers 
caused individuals to be included whose opinions were rather 
fantastic than dangerous. One of them, named Joan Bocher, had 
adopted some views respecting the nature of Christ which were 
inconsistent with the truths of the christian religion, although 
not upon the points of most vital importance ; she accordingly 
fell under the provisions of the barbarous laws which had 
been enacted by the papists, and w^hich still continued in force 
with respect to similar cases. Cranmer, therefore, while sitting 
as judge, had to pronounce sentence of condemnation against 
her; the rulers however were unwilling to follow the ex- 
ample of the church of Rome; and both Cranmer and Ridley 
exerted themselves to induce her to forsake the opinions she 
had embraced. She was kept in prison for twelve months, but 
as she refused to retract her opinions, the barbarous laws then 
in force required her life, and on the 27th of April, 1551, the 
council resolved that she should be burned. It is stated by 
Fox that the king being unwilling to direct the execution of this 
sentence, the council prevailed upon Cranmer to urge him to 
siirn the warrant, which the youthful monarch very unwillingly 
did, casting the responsibility upon the archbishop; the perse- 
cuted temale accordingly was committed tu the flames. 



A. D. 1549.J Joan Bocher. 49 

It is not intended to represent Cranmer as a faultless character, 
and certainly his part in this affair cannot be defended or 
excused. We oucrht however to remember that his conduct 
rather proceeded from his education, the principles of the 
times in which he lived, and the official station he filled, than from 
a sanguinary natural disposition. So deep had men in general 
drunk of the persecuting spirit of Romanism, that Cranmer in 
this respect erred with Melancthon and every leading protestant, 
with the exception of Luther. It should also be remembered 
that Bocher and Von Parr would have been burned by the 
Romanists, while their sentence would have been more promptly 
carried into execution, and their treatment more harsh. The 
eagerness with which the Romanists urged many slanders 
against the reformation also tended much to produce this painful 
tragedy, by rendering the protestants anxious to show that in 
departing from the Romish faith, they were not actuated by 
atheistical indifference, as their enemies asserted. It was in this 
view that they falsely thought it their duty to put to death those 
whom they considered to be blasphemers of the christian religion, 
while in no instance did they proceed to extremities against the 
Romanists. In justice to the unhappy victim of intolerance, 
Joan Bocher, it should be stated that she w^as a friend of Anne 
Askew who suffered for the truth in the preceding reign ; she 
herself had been active in circulating the English scriptures, at 
the hazard of her life. The opinions for w^hich she suffered were 
erroneous views respecting the nature of Christ, — her errors 
were speculative rather than practical, and although her conduct 
cannot be defended in every respect, yet she ought by no means 
to be accounted as one of the violent fanatics of Munster.* 

In 1549 Bonner was removed from the see of London, and 
soon after Gardiner from that of Winchester. Much forbear- 
ance and lenity were shown towards these men, w^hose conduct 
in every respect was the reverse of obedient subjects. The 
proceedings against Bonner and Gardiner fully show that they 
suffered, not for their religion, but for political malpractices. 
Gardmer especially promoted the decision against himself; he 

*Strype remarks that Fox, contrary to his usual plan in matters of 
importance, has not given his authority for the conversation^ said to 
have passed between the monarch and the primate. Nor has Saunders, 
the earliest and most abusive calumniator of the British reformation, 
alluded to it, though he has particularly related other circumstances 
connected with this tragedy. The Rev. H. Soames observes, "Of the 
part which Cranmer really took in the affair of Joan Bocher we are 
i ignorant, except that he' presided judicially at her trial, and that he 
endeavoured in company with Ridley to shake her opinions in several 
subsequent interviews. His dislike to the shedding of blood must be 
inferred from the mildness of his disposition, and is rendered undeni- 
able by known facts." Strype also remarks, that although king Edward 
VI. notices her condemnation and execution in his own diarj', he 
makes no mention of this conversation with Cranmer. From the 
records of the council it appears that Cranmer was not present when 
her execution was resolved on, which would lead us to conclude that 
he had no eager desire for her death. 



50 Cranmer.—Life, [a. d. 1550. 

knew that his life was not endangered, and he had no objection 
to be exhibited as suffering for his principles. Though Bonner 
offered no resistance to the measures of reformation, he suffered 
the greatest disorder to prevail in his diocese, and took care not 
to enforce the observance of any wholesome regulations.* 

In 1550, bishop Hooper was appointed to the see of Glouces- 
ter. Some serious discussions ensued with Cranmer and 
Ridley relative to the episcopal habits. Upon the particulars of 
these differences we need not dwell, but may notice with much 
pleasure, the brotherly love which these once contending par- 
ties manifested towards each other, when fellow-sufferers in 
the days of Mary. In fairness to Cranmer it should be said, 
that he was apprehensive of consequences to himself if he 
did not enforce what the law then demanded. f Had the 
English reformation been carried further, these unhappy 
difierences would have been prevented. 

At tliistime several parts of England were agitated by insur- 
rections, and much discontent prevailed amongst the lower 
classes. The causes are principally to be found in the changes 
which had taken place in the general state of society during the 
preceding half century, unconnected with religion. These 
changes in many instances bore very heavily upon the lower 
ranks, and had supplied subjects for reproof equally to sir 
Thomas More, Tindal, and Latimer, before the reformation 
commenced. The monks and bigoted Romanists increased the 
popular discontent. The Romish priesthood encouraged su- 
perstitious feelings, and the first proceeding of the misguided 
populace was to demand the restoration of the mass, with all its 
trumpery, attendant superstitions, and persecutions. These 
insurrections became very formidable, especially in the west of 
England and in Norfolk ; they were suppressed with consider- 
able difficulty and bloodshed. There are many references to 
them in the writings of the reformers. From the concurrent 
testimony of contemporary writers it is evident that plunder 
and revolution were the main objects which the leaders had in 
view, while the particular circumstances in which the lower 
classes were then placed forwarded their designs. The parts 
of England best cultivated were thickly peopled, and the land- 
lords, anxious to keep pace with the luxuries and improvements 
of the age, sought to make their estates more productive by 
measures which too often were oppressive. The superfluous 
labourers were in many cases driven from their natural homes, 
to make room for increased flocks of sheep, on account of the 

* After the death of queen Mary, some letters from the popish 
bi9hoj)s were found amongst lier papers, which showed iheir intrigues 
durinn her brother's rri^n. " 

t Strypo says, " Neither was Cranmer any other ways instnimental 
to Hooper's imprisonment, than by doing that which was expected 
from hun, namely, giving a true account of his unsuccessful dealing 
with him." The letters of Bucer, Alasco, and Hooper on tJiis suhject 
will be found in Strype's Memorials. 



A. D. 1550.] Insurrections in Devonshire and Norfolk, 51 

great demand for wool, while the state of manufactures and com- 
merce did not find them employment in the cities. Mr. Soames 
correctly observes, that " unprincipled plunderers, political in- 
cendiaries, and gloomy bigots, eagerly laid hold of the discon- 
tents necessarily springing from these causes, and by persuading 
the miserable peasantry that their distresses arose from the abo- 
lition of their accustomed superstitions, inflamed their passions 
so far as to lead them into open rebellion." As a general re- 
mark it may be observed, that in the market towns and places 
of trade the people mostly favoured the reformation, w^hile 
in the " upland towns" and more secluded agricultural districts 
ignorance and superstition still prevailed.* 

Cranmer preached a sermon on this occasion, the particulars 
of which are given by Burnet. It is a faithful, plain, practical 
discourse, reproving the vices of the times, and exhorting to re- 
pentance and change of life. He also wrote a reply to the de- 
mands of the rebels in the west of England, who not only required 
the restoration of popery in its grossest forms of error, but that 
the act of six articles should be again enacted. One specimen of 
their demands will suffice to show the influence by which these 
poor people were misled. " 4. We will have the sacrament hang 
over the high altar, and there to be worshipped as it was wont 
to be ; and they which will not thereto consent, we will have them 
die like heretics against the holy catholic faith.'''' Cranmer's 
reply to the rebels fully exposes the errors of popery ; it is print- 
ed at length by Strype, but is rather fitted for an historical col- 
lection than the present. The doctrines of the gospel were plainly 
stated, as the following extract relative to purgatory will show. 
" What can be more foolish than to say that pains can wash 
sins out of the soul ] I do not deny but that corrections and 
punishments in this life are a calling of men to repentance and 
amendment, and so to be purged by the blood of Christ. But 
correction without repentance can nothing avail, and they that 
are dead are past the time of repentance, and so no correction 
or torments in purgatory can avail them. And what a con- 
tumely and injury is this to Christ, to aflirm that all have 
not full and perfect purgation by his blood who die in his faith ! 
Is not all our trust in the blood of Christ, that w^e be cleansed, 
purged, and washed thereby 1 And will you have us now to 
forsake our faith in Christ, and bring us to the pope's purgatory 
to be washed therein, thinking that Christ's blood is an imper- 
fect ley or soap that washes not clean ? If he shall die without 

* The duke of Somerset, writing to sir Philip Hoby, then ambassa- 
dor at the imperial court, says, " The causes and pretences of their 
uproars and risings are divers and uncertain: some cry, pluck down 
enclosures and parks; some for their commons; others pretend reli- 
gion ; a number would rule and direct things as gentlemen have done ; 
and indeed all have conceived a wonderful hate against gentlemen, and 
take them all as their enemies. The ruffians among them, and soldiers 
cashiered, which be the chief doers, look for spoil." 



52 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1552. 

mercy that treads Christ's blood under his feet, what is treading 
of his blood under our feet if this be not ? But if, according to 
the catholic faith which the holy scripture teaches, and the 
prophets, apostles, and martyrs confirmed with their blood, 
all the faithful that die in the Lord be pardonecl of their otfences 
by Christ, and their sins be clearly spung-ed and washed 
away by his blood, shall they after be cast into another strong 
and grievous prison of purgatory, then to be punished again 
for that which was pardoned before ? Christ himself saith, 
He that believeth in Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, 
and shall not come to judgment, but shall pass from death unto 
life. And is God no truer to his promises, but to punish that 
wiiich he promiseth to pardon V Surely this is not the lan- 
guage of a supple, timid, interested courtier, such as Cranmer is 
represented by some, nor would commonplace feelings have 
caused these statements of gospel truth to be advanced promi- 
nently in a state manifesto. 

The year 1550 is also rendered memorable by the publication 
of Cranmer's " Defence of the true and Catholic Doctrine of 
the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of our Saviour Christ." 
Strype relates that by this work many were brought to embrace 
the sound doctrine concerning the sacrament. The subject was 
further discussed by Gardiner, in his book, entitled " A Confu- 
tation of Cranmer," and in the reply of the latter to the so- 
phistical cavillations of his opponent. When the Romanists 
came again to power they would not allow the protestants to 
resort to the press, or publicly and freely to discuss respecting 
truth and error. " Turn or burn" was the conclusive argument 
they employed. 

In 1552, the articles of religion were set forth by authority. 
The different reformed churches on the continent had for some 
time possessed formularies which could be referred to as au- 
thentic statements of their doctrines. The importance of such 
declarations, in controversies with the Romanists, was deeply 
felt. From the commencement of this reign, Cranmer ha4 
desired that a general assembly of deletrates from the protest- 
ant countries should assemble in England, by wliom a 
statement of this nature, suitable for protestants in general, 
might be prepared. For this purpose he corresponded with 
Melancthon and Calvin, who cordially approved the design. 
Various circumstances prevented the plan from being carried 
into effbct, and the disadvantages resulting from the want of 
such a document were now too obvious to allow of longer 
delay. The articles accordingly were prepared. Cranmer may 
be considered as the author or compiler of them, having 
avowed himself as such when called to judgment before the 
Romish commissioners; but he doubtless availed himself of the 
assistance of Ridley and others. They vary in some respects 
from those now called the thirty-nine articles, but not upon any 
essential point. They were partly drawn from the German 



1 

2. \ 



A. D. 1552.] Fall of Somerset, 53 

confessions of faith ; particularly that of Augsburg, and the 
Saxon confession prepared in 1551, to be presented to the 
council of Trent.* 

The histories of Edward VI. relate the political intrigues which 
disturbed the latter part of his reign. The fall and execution of 
Somerset, and the ambitious projects of Northumberland, which 
led to the usurpation and death of lady Jane Grey, need not be 
here detailed. There can be no doubt that Somerset erred in 
many respects, but he deserved not to suffer as a criminal. His 
conduct during his last hours was that of one who felt himself 
a sinner, and rejoiced that a ground of confidence was set before 
him in the death and sufferings of Christ. On the scaffold he 
expressed himself to this effect, adding, " As to one thing, dearly 
beloved friends, I feel no cause for repentance. While in au- 
thority, I constantly and diligently set forth and furthered the 
christian religion to the utmost of my power." He farther 
said, *' I most heartily beseech you all, that this religion, now 
so purely set forth among you, may be accepted and embraced 
by you, with becoming thankfulness ; producing that effect 
upon your lives which must flow from it, if you would escape 
the wrath of God ;" concluding his address, " I desire you all 
to bear me witness that I die here in the faith of Jesus Christ, 
desiring you to help me with your prayers that I may perse- 
vere constant in the same unto my life's end.'' His last words 
were, *' Lord Jesus, save me." A painful feeling of horror was 
publicly manifested at the execution of this excellent nobleman. 

Cranmer was deeply grieved by the fall and death of So- 
merset. He saw that the principal outward support of the 
reformation was gone. Somerset promoted the good work 
upon principle; Northumberland only from political objects. 
Cranmer and others had repeatedly to remonstrate with the latter 
on the open profaneness and vices of his followers. During 
the deliberations respecting the fate of Somerset, the primate 
boldly stood forward in his defence, and a letter which he wrote 
to the nobles who engaged in the proceedings against the pro- 
tector, caused them for a time to hesitate in their course. 

Cranmer also displeased Northumberland by openly oppo- 
sing a bill of attainder against Tonstall, bishop of Durham, the 
most moderate of the Romish prelates. Though he had op- 
pased the reformation, yet it w^as evident that extreme pro- 
ceedings w^ere urged against him, rather that Northumberland 
might profit from the spoils of his richly-endowed see, than 
from the charges of treason being justly founded. Cranmer was 
unsupported excepting by one peer; even the Romish bishops 
did not interfere in behalf of their brother ; but eventually the 
attainder for treason was laid aside, and Tonstall was only de- 
prived of his bishopric. 

Although Northumberland could not weaken Edward's 

* Heylin has printed the articles of Edward and EUzabeih, so as to 
exhibit all the variations between them. 

CRANMER. 6 



54 Cranmer. — lAfe. [a. d. 1552. 

affection for Cranmer, he succeeded in directing the measures of 
government as best suited his own interests — even those which 
related to matters of religion. The advice and opinions of the 
archbishop were no longer influential. Cranmer now lived 
comparatively in seclusion, where he mourned over the dark 
prospect presented by the declining health of Edward. Among 
other attacks upon him the old accusations of avarice and 
heaping up of treasure were revived. Cecil in friendship in- 
formed him of this. Cranmer replied, " As for your admonition, 
I take it most thankfully, as I have ever been most glad to be 
admonished by my friends, accounting no man so foolish as he 
that will not hear friendly admonishments. But as for the 
saying of St. Paul, They that will be rich fall into many temp- 
tations — I fear it not half so much as I do stark beggary. For I 
took not half so much care for my living when I was a scholar 
at Cambridge, as I do at this present. For although I have 
now much more revenue, yet I have much more to do withal ; 
and have more care to live now as an archbishop than I had at 
that time to live like a scholar. I have not so much as I had 
ten years ago, by 150/. of certain rent, besides casualties. I pay 
double for every thing that I buy. If a good auditor have this 
account he shall find no great surplusage to wax rich upon. 
And if I knew any bishop that were covetous, I would surely 
admonish him, but I know none, but all beggars, except it be 
one ; and yet I dare well say he is not very rich.* If you know 
any, I beseech you to advertise me, for peradventure I may ad- 
vertise him better than you. To be short, I am not so doted to 
set my mind upon things here, which I neither can carry away 
with me, nor tarry long with them." Cranmer was reduced to 
"stark beggary" at last. During his imprisonment at Oxford 
he had not a penny in his purse, and his enemies refused to 
allow well-disposed persons to bestow an alms upon him ; a 
privilege granted to common beggars, and the vilest criminals ! 
Among the correspondence of Cranmer is a letter which 
shows the correct view he had taken as to the most effectual 
way of imparting spiritual instruction to the people of Ireland. 
It will be interesting to those who, two centuries and a half later, 
liavc been led to adopt the plan recommended by the re- 
former. Writing of Dr. Turner, who was appointed to the 
archbishopric of Armagh, he says, " He preached twice in the 
camp that was by Canterbury; for which the rebels would 

* Tranmcr here refers to Holgatc, archbishop of York, who in se- 
veral respects was a very objectionable cliariicter, though lie favoured 
the reformation. He was more wealthy than Cranmer supposed, as 
appears from the inventory of property taken from him on the acces- 
sion of queen Mar)'. He tlien possessed in ready money twelve 
hundred pounds, besides plate, jewels, and other effects, to n larj^e 
amount, nil of which were sei'/ed tor the use of the queen! Holjrate was 
imprisoned for some time, but was released at the intercession of 
kiuiT IMnlip. He died in 1555, of an illucss caused by grief and the 
trc atment lie had received. 



A. D. 1552.] Cranmer's anxieties, 55 

have hanged him ; and he then seemed more glad to go to 
hanging, than he doth now to go to Armagh, he alleges so 
many excuses. But tlie chief is this, that he shall preach to 
the walls and stalls, for the people understand no English. I 
bear him in hand, yes ; and yet 1 doubt whether they speak 
English in the diocese of Armagh. But if they do not, then, 1 
say, that if he will take the pains to learn the Irish tongue, 
which with diligence he may in a year or two, then both his 
person and doctrine shall be more acceptable, not only unto his 
diocese, but also throughout all Ireland !" 

At this time Cranmer was unwell in body, as well as in mind ; 
he suffered Irom a severe attack of ague, which probably was 
aggravated by anxiety and mental uneasiness; bat he lamented 
the personal suffering which proceeded from his illness, less than 
the hmderance thereby occasioned to the good designs he was 
desirous to carry forward.* He expressed himself to this effect 
in a letter to Cecil ; his mind, however, was somewhat tranquil- 
lized by the pacification in Germany, whereby the free exercise 
of the protestant faith was secured to a country in whose wel- 
fare he had long felt deeply interested. For many years Cran- 
mer had corresponded, at least monthly, with the German re- 
formers, and had assisted many of his poorer brethren there, 
with regular allowances, to such an extent as at times excited 
dissatisfaction among his own attendants. Many interesting par- 
ticulars relative to this correspondence might be collected for a 
regular biographical account of Cranmer. Amongst other ex- 
ertions in their behalf, he obtained a yearly allowance for Slei- 
dan, to enable him to continue his history of the reformation. 

One of Cranmer's occupations at this period was the revisal 
of the Book of Common Prayer. It was used publicly for the 
first time at St. Paul's on All Saints' Day, 1552, on which oc- 
casion the clergy present laid aside the greater part of the 
Romish vestments, the use of w^iich had been so strongly object- 
ed to by Hooper and many of the most estimable reformers. 

Cranmer's attendance at the privy council appears to have 
ceased on the 8th of June, 1553; probably from his dislike to 
the measures respecting the succession then pressed forward by 
Northumberland. Nor was he satisfied merely to withdraw. 
He reasoned with the king at considerable length against the 
design of setting aside his sister Mary from the throne, and re- 
quested a private audience that he might urge his reasons still 
more fully. The party then in power prevented this. North- 
umberland told him that it became him not to speak to the king 
as he had done. 

When the legal instrument for settling the crown upon lady 
Jane Grey was completed, Cranmer was called upon to add 
his signature, which he refused to do, alleging his oath 

* Among them was a plan for the better and more equally providing 
for the ministers of religion. 



56 Cranmer, — Life. [a. d. 1553. 

to the late king.* The example of others being urged, he 
replied, " I am not judge over any man's conscience but my 
own only." At length the importunity of the dying monarch, 
with the assurance of the highest legal authorities of the land, 
prevailed upon Cranmer to sign. This instrument for altering 
the succession is dated June 21. Soon atler, on the 6th of July, 
1553, Edward departed in peace from a world which was not 
worthy of him. 

Numerous passages in the writings of the reformers show 
how general v/as the feeling that the sins of the nation, with 
the disregard of the mercies vouchsafed, had brought down this 
sore judgment upon the land. 



PART III. 
Cranmer in the Reign of Queen Mary. 

During the brief pageant of queen Jane, Cranmer acted 
conformably to the engagement into which he had entered, but 
without any bitterness towards the rightful monarch, to whom 
he early declared his submission. He had reason to expect 
Mary's displeasure for the j>art he had taken in her mother's di- 
vorce ; but he had still stronger claims upon her forbearance, 
having successfully interfered in her behalf when her father, 
Henry VIII., ordered that she should be sent to the Tower, 
and dealt with as any other subject, upon her refusal to declare 
her acquiescence in his assumption of the supremacy. On that 
occasion the king warned Cranmer that he would repent of his 
interference. 

Soon at\er the queen's arrival in London, it was reported tliat 
Cranmer had endeavoured to gain her favour, by promising to 
take a part in the funeral solcnmities tor her brother, according 
to the Romish ceremonial. Some indeed reported that lie had 
already said mass at Canterbury ; this originated in Dr. Thorn- 
ton's having performed that service. Cranmer was anxious to 
stop the false rumour, and prepared a writing to clear himself 
Scory, then bishop of Rochester, saw this pa|>er in the arch- 
bishop's chamber, and requested a copy. Others speedily were 
taken, and were so much sought for, that almost every scrive- 
ner's shop was employed in making copies. 

*That Cranmer was no party to tliesr proceedings clearly npj>ears from 
his letters lo ijueen Mary, nrinttd by (.'overdale, in which he relates the 
part lie took in opposing tlie UKiasures for nhering the succession. He 
denies any narticipation with i\ortlnnnl)f>rland, and Favs, "The duke 
never open<'(i his mouth to nie, to move me to any such matter. Nor 
waa his heart such towards me, he seeking long time my destruction, that 
he would ever trust mo m such a matter, or tliink that 1 would be |x*r- 
Buaded by him." 



A. D. 1553.] Imprisoned by Queen Mary, 57 

Meanwhile Cranmer expected what would befall him, and 
directed his steward to discharge all the debts owing" by him 
witliout delay. On learning this had been done, he expressed 
much satisfaction that honest men would not be sufferers by him. 

Fox states, Dr. Cranmer, at a day lixed, appeared before the 
queen's commissioners, bringing a true inventory, as he was 
commanded, of all his goods. That done, bishop Heath, one 
of the commissioners, said, " My lord, there is a bill put forth 
in your name, wherein you seem to be aggrieved with the setting 
up the mass again ; we doubt not but you are sorry that it is 
gone abroad." The archbishop answered again, saying : " As I 
do not deny myself to be the very author of that bill or letter, 
so must I confess here unto you, concerning the same bill, tiiat 
I am sorry that the said biJl went from me in such sort as it 
did. For when I had written it, master Scory got the copy of 
me, and it is now come abroad, and, as 1 understand, the city 
is full of it. For which I am sorry, that it so passed my hands ; 
for I had intended otherwise to have made it in a more large 
and ample manner, and minded to have set it on Paul's church 
door, and on the doors of all the churches in London, with mine 
own seal joined thereto." When they saw his constancy, they 
dismissed him, affirming that he should hear further. Bishop 
Heath declared afterwards to Dr. Cranmer's friends, that, 
notwithstanding his attainder of treason, the queen's determi- 
nation at that time was, that Cranmer should only have been 
deprived of his archbishopric, and have had a sufficient living 
assigned him, upon his exhibiting a true inventory, with com- 
mand to keep his house without meddling in matters of re- 
ligion. Not long after this, he was sent unto the Tower,* 
and soon after condemned for treason. Notwithstanding, the 
queen, when she could not honestly deny him his pardon, as 
all the rest were discharged, and especially seeing he last of 
all others subscribed to king Edw^ard's request, and that against 
his own will, released to him his action of treason, and accused 
him only of heresy. This the archbishop liked right well, and 
it came to pass as he wished ; because the cause was not now 
his own, but Christ's ; not the queen's, but the church's. 

At length it was determined by the queen and the council, 
that he should be removed from the Tower to Oxford, there 
to dispute with the doctors and divines. And although the queen 
and the bishops had concluded what should become of him, 

* The Tower being very full of prisoners, Cranmer was confined for 
some time in the same room with Ridley, Latimer, and Bradford. ' 
This affijrded them an opportunity mutually to support and strengthen 
each other; it is referred to in the letters of these martyrs. The 
letter which he addressed to the queen when condemned for treason, 
is in the present collection. According to the words of the apostle 
he wa3 desirous not to suffer " as an evil doer." So many, who 
were far more guilty than Cranmer, had been pardoned and pre- 
ferred to the queen's favour, that she could not refuse him the same. 

6* 



58 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1554. 

yet it pleased them that the matter should be debated with ar- 
guments, that under some honest show of disputation, the 
murder of the man might be covered. 

The manner in which these disputations were conducted is 
described by Cranmer, in a letter which he sent to the council. 
He says, " Dr. Chadsey was appointed to dispute against me, but 
the disputation was so confused, that I never knew the like, 
every man bringing forth what him liked, without order ; and 
such haste was made, that no answer could be suffered to be 
taken fully to any argument before another brought a new ar- 
gument. And when we had answered them, they would not ap- 
point one day to bring forth our proofs, that they might answer 
us. — But why they would not answer us, what other cause can 
there be, but that either they feared their matter, that they were 
not able to answer us; or else for some consideration they made 
such haste, not to seek the truth, but to condemn us, that it must 
be done in post haste before the matters could be thoroughly 
heard ; for in all haste we were all three condemned of heresy," 
During these disputations, Dr. Weston, one of the chief arguers 
of tlie papists, attempted by a false quotation from scripture, 
to prove that women ought not to receive the sacrament! 

After the disputations in Oxford, sentence condemnatory im- 
mediately was pronounced against Cranmer, Ridley, and Lati- 
mer, by Dr. Weston and others of the university ; whereby they 
were judged to be heretics, and committed to Bocardo, the 
common gaol in Oxford. Some interesting letters of the mar- 
tyrs were addressed to Cranmer and his companions while in 
that prison. 

As yet the authority of the pope was not re-established, and 
the sentence against these reformers could not be enforced by 
any law then existing. New proceedings were instituted in the 
following year, and on tlie 12th of September, 1555, Cranmer 
was brought before Dr. Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, the pope's 
sub-delegate, wlio sat in state in St. Mary's church with Dr. 
Martin and Dr. Story, as commissioners on the part of king 
Philip and queen Mary, and as Fox adds, '* underneath them 
other doctors, scribes and pharisoes also, with the pope's collec- 
tor, and a rabblement of such other like." 

Cranmer bowed with respect to the royal commissioners, but 
refused any similar mark of reverence to the pope's delegate. 

Bishop Brooks then proceeded to charge Cranmer with 
heresy, treason, and adultery; the latter epithet being always 
applied by the Romanists to the marriage of the protestant 
clergy. Cranmer made a firm reply, concluding thus, "I cast 
fear apart; for Christ said to his apostles, that in the latter 
days they should suffer much sorrow, and be put to death for 
liis name's sake. Fear them not, saith he, but fear Ilim, wliich 
when he hath killed the body, hath power to cast the soul into 
fire everlasting. Also Christ saith ; He that will live shall 
die, and he that loseth his life for my name's sake, he shall find 



A. D. 1555.] Examinations, 59 

it again, Moreover ho said, Confess me before men, and be not 
afraid ; if you do so, I will stand with you ; if you shrink from 
me, I will shrink from you. This is a comfortable and a ter- 
rible saying, this maketh me to set all fear apart. I say there- 
fore, the bishop of Rome treadeth under foot God's laws and the 
king's." His defence is valuable, but too long for insertion here. 

Cranmer then declared how the pope's supremacy had been 
renounced, saymg, " The truth is, my predecessor, archbishop 
Warham, gave the supremacy to king Henry VHL, and said 
that he ought to have it before the bishop of Rome, and that 
God's word would bear him. And upon the same was there sent 
to both the universities, Oxford and Cambridge, to know what 
the word of God would do touching the supremacy, and it was 
reasoned upon, and argued at length. So at the last both the 
universities agreed, and set to their seals, and sent it to king 
Henry VHI., to the court, that he ought to be supreme head 
and not the pope. You (bishop Brooks) were then doctor of di- 
vinity at that time, and your consent was thereunto, as your 
hand doth appear. Therefore you misreport me, that I was the 
cause of your falling av/ay from the pope, but it was yourself. 
All this was in archbishop Warham's time, and whilst he was 
alive, so that it was three-quarters of a year after, ere ever I 
had the bishopric of Canterbury in my hands, and before I 
might do any thing. So that here ye have reported of me that 
which ye cannot prove, which is evil done." 

Dr. Story then attempted to prove the pope's supremacy. A 
long desultory conversation followed between the archbishop 
and Dr. Martin, the substance of which is given by Fox. The 
articles against Cranmer w^ere exhibited, and his answers taken 
down. In them is stated, " as for the cathechism, and the book 
of articles, with the other book against Winchester, he granted 
the same to be his doings." 

The judges and commissioners were about to rise and depart: 
but the bishop of Gloucester thinking it not the best so to dis- 
miss the people, being somewhat stirred with the words of the 
archbishop, began another oration, in which he told Cranmer 
that he must not reason with him, being a heretic, and stated 
arguments in behalf of the pope's supremacy, and the real 
presence in the sacrament. Dr. Story added some remarks; 
Cranmer replied, but was rudely ordered " to hold his peace." 

Several witnesses were then called, and their depositions 
being taken. Dr. Story admonished the archbishop, permitting 
him to make his exceptions, if he thought any of the said wit- 
nesses should be refused : who then would admit none of 
them all, being men perjured, and not in christian religion. 
For if to swear, said he, against the pope were unlawflil, they 
should rather have given their lives, than their oath. But if it 
were lawful, then are they perjured, to defend him whom they 
forsware before. This answer being lightly regarded, he was 
commanded to the place from whence he came. 



60 Cranmer. — Life. [a. d. 1555. 

Amon^ other things they objected to him that he was married, 
which he confessed. Whereupon Dr. Martin said, that his 
children were bondmen to the see of Canterbury. At which 
saying, the archbishop smiled, and asked him if a priest at his 
benefice kept a concubine, and had by her bastards, whether 
they were bondmen to the benefice or no, saying, I trust you 
will make my children's cases no worse. 

Afler they had received his answers to all their objections, 
they cited him to appear at Rome within fourscore days, to 
make there his personal answer. He wrote to the queen, that 
if she would send him, he would be content to go. 

Cranmer was now remanded to prison, and the mockery of 
citing him at Rome was proceeded in, while he was detained a 
close prisoner in England, and his beloved brethren Ridley and 
Latimer were committed to the flames. On the 4th of Decem- 
ber, he was declared to be contumacious, that is, wilfully absent, 
and sentenced to be put to death. 

Bonner, and Thirlby, bishop of Ely, who had formerly 
been much favoured by Cranmer, arrived at Oxford on the 
14th of February, 1556, with full authority to deprive and con- 
demn the venerable primate. The remainder of this narrative 
will be given chiefly in the words of Fox. While the pope's 
commission was in reading, the archbishop said, " What lies 
are these, that I, being continually in prison, and never 
suffered to have counsel or advocate at home, should pro- 
duce, witness, and appoint my counsel at Rome? God must 
needs punish this open and shameless lying." They read on the 
commission which came from the pope, with fulness of power 
to supply all manner of defects in law or process, and giving 
them full authority to proceed to the deprivation and degra- 
dation of him, and so upon excommunication to deliver him up 
to the secular power, no appeal being allowed. 

When the commission was read, they clothed him ; putting 
on him a surplice, and then an alb ; after that the vestment of 
a sub-deacon, and every other furniture, as a priest ready to 
mass. When they had apparelled him so far : What, said he, 
I think I shall say mass. Yea, said Cosins, one of Bonner's 
chaplains, my lord, I trust to see you say mass, for all this. Do 
you so, quoth he, tliat shall you never see, nor will I ever do it. 

'J'hen they invested him in all manner of robes of a bishop 
and arclibishop, as he is at his installing, saving that as every 
thing then is most rich and costly, so every thing in this was of 
canvass and old clouts, with a mitre and a pall of the same put 
upon him in mockery, and the crosier stafl^ was put in his hand. 

Bonner then went on, lying and railing against the archbishop, 
till at length there was never a man but was weary of the un- 
mannerly usanre of him in that time and ])lace ; insomucli that 
the bishop of Ely divers times pulled Bonner by the sleeve to 
make an end, and said to him afterward when they went to 
dinner, that he had broken promise with him; for he had en- 
treated him earnestly to use the archbishop with reverence. 



A. D. 1555.] His condemnation and degradation, 61 

After all this done and finished, they began then to bustle 
toward his degrading ; and first to take fi'om him his crosier 
staff out of his hands, which he held fast, and refused to de- 
liver, and withal imitating the example of Martin Luther, 
pulled an appeal out of his left sleeve under the wrist, which he 
there and then delivered unto them, saying, I appeal to the 
next general council ; and herein have comprehended my 
cause and form of it, which I desire may be admitted. 

This appeal being put up to the bishop of Ely, he said : 
My lord, pur commission is to proceed against you, every ap- 
peal being put aside, and therefore we cannot admit it. 

Why, quoth he, then you do me the more WTong, for my 
case is not as every private man's case. The matter is between 
the pope and me immediately, and none otherwise ; and I think 
no man ought to be a judge in his own cause. 

Well, quoth Ely, if it may be admitted, it shall, and so re- 
ceived it of him. And then began he to persuade earnestly 
with the archbishop to consider his state, and to weigh it well, 
while there was time to do him good, promising to become a 
suitor to the king and queen for him ; and so protested his great 
love and friendship that had been between them, heartily weep- 
ing, so that for a time he could not go on with his tale. Then 
proceeded they to his degradation. 

To be short, when they came to take off his pall, which is 
a solemn vesture of an archbishop, then said he: Which of 
you hath a pall, to take oiF my pall ]* Whereunto one of them 
said, in that they w^ere but bishops, they were his inferiors, and 
not competent judges; but being the pope's delegates, they 
might take his pall, and so they did, and so proceeding took 
every thing in order from him, as it w^as put on. Then a bar- 
ber clipped his hair round about, and the bishops scraped the 
tops of his fingers where he had been anointed, wherein bishop 
Bonner behaved himself as roughly and unmannerly, as the 
other bishop was to him soft and gentle. Whilst they were 
thus doing. All this, quoth the archbishop, needed not : I had 
myself done with this gear long ago. Last of all they stripped 
him out of his gown into his jacket, and put upon him a poor 
yeoman beadle's gown, full bare and nearly worn, and as evil 
made as one might see, and a townsman's cap on his head, 
and so delivered him to the secular power. 

Then spake lord Bonner, saying to him : Now are you no lord 
any more ; and so whensoever he spake to the people of him, 
as he was continually barking against him, ever he used this ^ 
term — This gentleman here, &C. 

And thus with great compassion and pity of every man, in 
this evil-favoured gown was he carried to prison. There 

* A long narrow piece of woollen cloth worn over the shoulders. 
The palls were made from the wool of lambs, consecrated at Rome 
every year with great ceremony, and were sent by the pope to every 
archbishop upon his election, for which he had to pay a large sum of 
money. 



m 



62 Cramner. — Life, [a. d. 1556. 

followed a gentleman of Gloucestershire with the archbishop's 
own gown, who standing* by, and being thought to be attending 
one of the bishops, had it delivered to him ; who by the way talk- 
ing with him, Cranmer said, The bishop of Ely protested his 
friendship with tears ; yet he might have used a great deal more 
friendship towards me, and never have been the worse thought 
on, for I have well deserved it. This gentleman going into the 
prison with him, asked him if he would drink. Who answered 
him, saying, if he had a piece of salt fish, that he had better 
will to eat ; for he had been that day somewhat troubled with 
this matter, and had eaten little, but now that it is past, my 
heart, said he, is well quieted. Whereupon the gentleman 
said, he would give him money with all his heart, for he was 
able to do it. But he being skilled in the law, and fearing 
master Farmer's case,* durst therefore give him nothing, but 
gave money to the bailiffs that stood by, and said, that if they 
were good men, they would bestow it on him, for my lord of 
Canterbury had not one penny in his purse to help him, and so 
letl him, my lord bidding him earnestly farewell, commending 
himself to his prayers and all his friends. That night this gen- 
tleman was staid by Bonner and Ely, for giving him this money ; 
and but for the help of friends, he had been sent up to the council. 
Such was the cruelty and iniquity of the time, that men could 
not do good without punishment. 

The doctors and divines of Oxford now busied themselves 
about Cranmer, to have him recant, assaying by all crafty prac- 
tices and allurements they might devise, how to bring their pur- 
pose to pass. And to the intent they might win him easily, they 
had him to the dean's house of Christ's church in the said uni- 
versity, where he lacked no delicate fare, played at bowls, had 
his pleasure for walking, and all other things that might bring 
him from Christ. Over and besides all this, secretly and craftily 
they suborned certain men, who, when they could not prevail 
against him by arguments and disputation, should by entreaty 
and fliir promises, or any other means, allure him to recanta- 
tion ; percoivinir otherwise what a^reat wound they should re- 
ceive, if the archbishop had stood steadfast in his sentence ; and 
again on the other side, how great profit they should get, if he, 
as the principal standard bearer, should be overthrown. By 
reason whereof tiie wily papists flocked about him, with 
threatening, flattering, entreating, and promising, and all other 
means; especially Ilenry Sydall, and the Spaniard, friar John 
de Villa Garcina, also Dr. Cole and others. 

The papists thus used every inducement to persuade Cranmer 
to make some a^ssent to their doctrines. At length they over- 
came his fortitude, and Cranmer fell ! He consented to affix 
his signature to a formulary of recantation. 

It might be supposed, that it was done for the hope of life, 

* This Farmer had lost all his lands, for relieving a priest in the 
Tower in king Hcniy's time 



A. D. 1556.] Preparations for his death, C3 

and better days to come. Bat as we may since perceive by a 
letter of his sent to a lawyer, the most cause why he desired his 
time to be delayed, was that he would make an end of Mar- 
cus Antoninus, which he had already begun ; but howsoever it 
was, plain it was, to be against his conscience.* 

This recantation of the archbishop was not so soon con- 
ceived, but the doctors and prelates without delay caused the 
same to be imprinted and set abroad in all men's hands.f 
All this while Cranmer was in no certain assurance of his life, 
although the same was faithfully promised to him by the doc- 
tors. The queen having now gotten a time to revenge her old 
grief, received his recantation very gladly ; but of her purpose 
to put him to death, she would nothing relent. 

Now was Cranmer's cause in a miserable taking, who 
neither inwardly had any quietness in his own conscience, nor 
yet outwardly any help in his adversaries. Besides this, on the 
one side was praise, on the other side scorn, on both sides 
danger, so that neither could he die honestly, nor yet live un- 
honestly. And whereas he sought profit, he fell into double 
disprotit, that neither with good men he could avoid secret 
shame, nor yet with evil men the note of dissimulation. 

Dr. Cole, having his lesson, returned to Oxford ready to play 
liis part, who, as the day of execution drew near, even the day 
before, came into the prison to Cranmer, to try whether he abode 
in the catholic faith, wherein before he had left him. To whom 
when Cranmer had answered, that by God's grace, he would 
daily be more confirmed in the catholic taith ; Cole departing 
for that time, the next day following repaired to the archbishop 
again, giving no signification as yet of his death that was pre- 
pared. In the morning, the 21st day of March, appointed for 
Cranmer's execution, Cole, coming to him, asked if he had 
any money 1 To whom, when he answered, that he had none, 
he delivered fifteen crowns to give to the poor, to whom he 
would : and exhorting him so much as he could to constancy 
in faith, departed thence about his business. 

The archbishop now began to surmise what they went 
about, and thinking that the time was at hand, in which he 
could no longer dissemble the profession of his faith with 
Christ's people, he put secretly in his bosom his prayer with his 
exhortation, which he minded to recite to the people, before he 
should make the last profession of his faith, fearing lest, if they 
had heard the confession of his faith, they would not afterwards 
suffer him to exhort the people. 

About nine of the clock, the lord Williams, sir Thomas 
Brydges, sir John Brown, and the other justices, with other 
noblemen of the queen's council, came to Oxford with a great 

* His answer to Gardiner on the sacrament. Knox bears a strong 
testimony to the ability with which Cranmer exposed the errors of 
popery on this head. — See Admonition. Knox, p. 112. 

t For further particulars respecting his recantation, see note, p. 73. 



64 Cranmcr. — Life, [a. d. 1556. 

train of waiting-men. Also of the other multitude on every 
side, as are wont in such a matter, was made a great concourse 
and greater expectation. Briefly, as every man's will inclmed, 
either to this part or to that, so according to the diversity of 
their desires, every man wished and hoped for. 

In this so great frequency and expectation, Cranmer at 
length Cometh from the prison Bocardo, unto St. Mary's church, 
in this order ; the mayor went before, next him the aldermen 
in their place and degree. After them was Cranmer brought 
between two friars, who mumbling to and fro certain psalms 
in tlie streets, answered one to another until they came to the 
church door, and tliere they began the song of Simeon, Nunc 
dnnittis, and entering into the church, the psalm-saying friars 
brought him to his standing, on a stage over against the pulpit. 

The lamentable case and sight of that man gave a sorrow- 
ful spectacle to all christian eyes that beheld him. He that 
late was archbishop, metropolitan, and primate of England, 
and the king's privy counsellor, being now in a bare and ragged 
gown, and ill-favou redly clothed, with an old square cap, ex- 
posed to the contempt of all men, did admonish men not only 
of his own calamity, but to consider of their state and fortune. 

In this habit, when he had stood a good space upon the 
stage, turning to a pillar near adjoining thereunto, he titled up 
his hands to heaven, and prayed to God once or twice ; till at 
the length Dr. Cole coming into the pulpit, divided his whole 
sermon into three parts, according to the solemn custom of the 
schools, intending to speak first, of the mercy of God ; secondly, 
of his justice to be showed ; and, last of all, how the prince's 
secrets are not to be opened. 

It were too long to repeat all things, that in long order 
were then pronounced. The sum of this tripartite declamation 
was, that although pardon and reconciliation were due ac- 
cording to the canons, seeing he repented from his errors, 
yet there were causes, why the queen and the council at this 
time judged him to death ; of which, lest he should marvel too 
much, he sliould hear some. 

" He glorified God much in his conversion, because it ap- 
peared to be only his work, declaring what travail and confer- 
ence had been with him to convert him, and all prevailed not, 
till it pleased God of his mercy to reclaim him, and call Wun 
home. In discoursing of which place, he much commended 
('ranmer, and (pialitied his former doings, thus tempering his 
judgment and talk of him, that all the time he flowed in riches 
and honour, he was unworthy of his life; and now that he 
might not live, he was unworthy of death. But lest he should 
carry with him no comfort, he would diligently labour, he said, 
and also he did promise in the name of all the priests, that 
wrre present, that immediately afler his death, there should be 
dirges, masses, and funerals, executed for him in all the churches 
of Oxford for the euccour of his soul. 



A. D. 1556.] His address to the people. 65 

" Cranmer, in all the mean time, with what ^reat grief of 
mind he stood hearing- this sermon, the outward show of his 
body and countenance did better express, than any man can 
declare ; one while lifting up his hands and eyes unto heaven, 
and then again for shame letting them down to the earth. A 
man might have seen the very image and shape of perfect sor- 
row lively in him expressed. More than twenty several times 
the tears gushed out abundantly, and dropped down marvel- 
lously from his fatherly face. They, which were present, do 
testify, that they never saw in any child more tears, than burst 
out from him at that time, all the sermon while; but especially 
when he recited his prayer before the people. It is marvellous 
what commiseration and pity moved all men's hearts, who be- 
lield so heavy a countenance and such abundance of tears, in 
an old man of so reverend dignity. 

" Cole, afler he had ended his sermon, called back the people 
that were ready to depart, to prayers : * Brethren,' said he, 
*lest any man should doubt of this man's earnest conversion 
and repentance, you shall hear him speak before you, and 
therefore, I pray you, master Cranmer, that you will now per- 
form what you promised not long ago, namely, that you would 
openly express the true and undoubted profession of your faith, 
that 3^ou may take away all suspicion from men, and that all 
men may understand that you are a catholic indeed.' — * I will 
do it,' said the archbishop, ' and with a good will :' rising up, 
and putting off his cap, he began to speak thus unto the people. 
. " ' I desire you, well-beloved brethren in the Lord, that you 
will pray to God for me, to forgive my sins, which above all 
men, both in number and greatness, I have committed ; but, 
among all the rest, there is one offence, which of all at this 
time doth vex and trouble me, whereof in process of my talk 
you shall hear more in its proper place ;' and then, putting his 
hand into his bosom, he drew forth his prayer, which he recited 
to the people. 

" And here kneeling down, he said : ' O Father of heaven : 
O Son of God, Redeemer of the world : O Holy Ghost, three 
persons and one God, have mercy upon me, most wretched 
caitiff and miserable sinner. I have offended both against 
heaven and earth more than my tongue can express. Whither 
then may I go, or whither should I fly '? To heaven I may be 
ashamed to lift up mine eyes, and in earth I find no place of 
refuge or succour. To thee, therefore, O Lord, do I run ; to 
thee do I humble myself, saying, O Lord, my God, my sins 
are great, but yet have mercy upon me for thy great mercy. 
The great mystery that God became man, was not wrought 
for little or few offences. Thou didst not give thy Son, O hea- 
venly Father, unto death for small sins only, but for all the 
greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner return unto thee 
with his whole heart, as I do here at this present. Wherefore 
have mercy on me, O God, whose property is always to have 

CRANMER. 7 



66 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1556 

mercy : have mercy on me, O Lord, for thy great mercy. I 
crave nothing, O Lord, for mine own merits, but for thy name 
sake, that it may be hallowed thereby, and for thy dear Son 
Jesus Christ's sake ; and now therefore. Our Father of heaven, 
hallowed be thy name,' &.c. And then he, rising, said : 

" * Every man, good people, desireth at the time of his death 
to give some good exhortation, that others may remember the 
same before their death, and be the better thereby : so I be- 
seech God grant me grace, that I may say something at this 
my departing, whereby God may be glorified, and you edified. 
First, it is a heavy case to see that so many folk so much dote 
upon the love of this false world, and are so careful for it, that 
of the love of God, or the world to come, they seem to care 
very little or nothing. Therefore this shall be my first exhorta- 
tion, that you set not your minds overmuch upon this flatter- 
ing world, but upon God and upon the \vorld to come ; and 
learn to know what this lesson meaneth, which St. John teaches, 
that the love of this world is hatred against God. 

" * The second exhortation is, that next under God you obey 
your king and queen willingly and gladly, without murmuring 
or grudging ; not for fear of them only, but much more for the 
fear of God ; knowing, that they are God's ministers, appointed 
by God to rule and govern you : and therefore, whosoever re- 
sisteth them, resisteth the ordinance of God. 

*' ' The third exhortation is, that you love altogether like 
brethren and sisters. For, alas ! pity it is to see what conten- 
tion and hatred one cliristian man beareth to another, not taking 
each other as brother and sister, but rather as strangers and 
mortal enemies. But, I pray you, learn and bear well away 
this one lesson, to do good unto all men, as much as in you 
lieth ; and to hurt no man, no more than you would hurt your 
own natural loving brother or sister. For this you may be sure 
of, that whosoever hateth any person, and goeth about mali- 
ciously to hinder or hurt him, surely and without all doubt, God 
is not with that man, although he think himself in God's favour. 

" 'The fourth exhortation shall be to them that have great 
substance and riches of this world, that they will well consider 
and weigh three sayings of the scriptures. One is of our 
Saviour Christ himself, who saith : It is hard for a rich man to 
enter into the kingdom of heaven. A sore saying, and yet 
spoken of him that knoweth the truth. The second is of St. 
John, whose saying is this : He that hath the substance of this 
world, and sooth his brother in necessity, and shutteth up his 
mercy from him, how can he say that he loveth God f The 
third thing is of St. James, who speaketh to the coveteous rich 
men after this manner : Weep you and howl for the misery that 
shall come upon you : your riches do rot, your clothes be moth- 
eaten, your gold and silver doth canker and rust, and their rust 
shall bear witness against you, and consume you like fire. You 
gather a hoard or treasure of God's indignation against the last 



A. D. 1556.] Recalls his recantation, 67 

day. — Let them that are rich ponder well these three sentences ; 
for if ever they had occasion to show their charity, they have it 
now, the poor peq)le being so many, and victuals so dear.* 

** ' And now, forasmuch as I am come to the last end of my 
life. Whereupon hangeth all my life past, and all my life to 
come, either to live with my master, Christ, for ever in joy, or 
else to be in pain for ever with wicked devils in hell, and I see 
before mine eyes presently, either heaven ready to receive me, 
or else hell ready to swallow me up ; I shall therefore declare 
unto you my very faith how I believe, without any colour or 
dissimulation ; for now it is no time to dissemble, whatsoever I 
have said or written in time past. 

" * First, I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of 
heaven and earth, &c. And I believe every article of the catho- 
lic faith, every word and sentence taught by our Saviour Jesus 
Christ, his apostles and prophets, in the new and old testament. 

" * And now I come to the great thing that so much troubleth 
my conscience, more than any thing that ever I did or said in 
my whole life ; and that is, the setting abroad of a writing con- 
trary to the truth : which now here I renounce and refuse, as 
things written with my hand, contrary to the truth which I 
thought in my heart, and which were written for fear of death, 
and to save my life, if it might be ; and that is, all such bills and 
papers, which I have written or signed with my hand since my 
degradation, wherein I have written many things untrue. And 
forasmuch as my hand offended, writing contrary to my heart, 
my hand shall first be punished therefore ; for may I come to 
the fire, it shall first be burned. And as for the pope, I refuse 
him, as Christ's enemy and antichrist, with all his false doctrine. 
And as for the sacrament, I believe as I have taught in 
my book against the bishop of Winchester, the which, my book, 
teacheth so true a doctrine of the sacrament, that it shall stand 
at the last day before the judgment of God, where the papisti- 
cal doctrine contrary thereto, shall be ashamed to show her face.' 

"Here the standers-by were all astonished, marvelled, were 
amazed, and looked one upon another. Some began to admo- 
nish him of his recantation, and to accuse him of falsehood. 

" Briefly, it was a world to see the doctors beguiled of so 
great a hope. I think there was never cruelty more notably or 
better in time deluded and deceived. For it is not to be doubted, 
but they looked for a glorious victory and a perpetual triumph 
by this man's recantation. Who, as soon as they heard these 
things, began to let down their ears, to rage, fret, and fume; 
and so much the more, because they could not revenge their 
grief; for they could now no longer threaten or hurt him. For 
the most miserable man in the world can die but once ; and 
whereas of necessity he must needs die that day, though the 
papists had been ever so well pleased ; now being ever so 

* A great scarcity then prevailed, a pound of beef was sold for 
fourpence, equal to five shillings of our present money. 



68 Cranmer, — Life. [a. d. 1556. 

much offended with him, yet he could not be twice killed of 
them. And so, when they could do nothing else unto him, they 
ceased not to object unto him his falsehood and dissimulation. 

" Unto which accusation he answered : ' Ah, my masters, 
do not you take it so. Always since I lived hitherto, I have 
been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of simplicity, and never 
before this time have I dissembled :' and in saying this, all the 
tears that remained in his body, appeared in his eyes. And 
when he began to speak more of the sacrament, and of the 
papacy, some of them began to cry out ; and especially Cole 
cried out: * Stop the heretic's mouth, and take him away.' 

" And then Cranmer, being pulled down from tlie stage, was 
led to the fire, accompanied with those friars, vexing, troubling, 
and threatening him most cruelly. To whom he answered 
nothing, but directed all his talk to the people, saving that one, 
troubling him in the way, he spake and exhorted him to get him 
home to his study, and apply diligenty ; saying, that if he dili- 
gently called upon God, by reading more, he should get 
knowledge. 

" But when he came to the place where the holy bishops and 
martyrs of God, Hugh Latimer and Ridley, were burnt before 
him for the confession of the truth ; kneeling down, he prayed 
to God, and not tarrying in his prayers, putting off his garments 
to his shirt, he prepared himself to death. His shirt was made 
long down to his feet. His feet were bare. Likewise his head, 
when both his caps were off, was so bare, that not one hair could 
be seen upon it. His beard was long and thick, covering his face 
with marvellous gravity. Such a countenance moved the hearts, 
both of friends and enemies. 

" Then the Spanish friars began to exhort him, and play their 
parts afresh, but with vain and lost labour. Cranmer, with stead- 
fast purpose abiding in the profession of his doctrine, gave his 
liand to certain old men, and others that stood by, bidding them 
farewell. 

" Then was an iron chain tied about Cranmer, whom, when 
they perceived to be more steadfast than that he could be moved 
from his sentence, they commanded the fire to be set unto him. 
And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near 
him, stretching out his arm, he put his right hand into the flame ; 
which he held so steadfast and immovable, saving that once with 
the same hand he wiped his face, that all men might see his 
hand burned, before his body was touched. His body did so abide 
the burning of the flame, with such constancy and steadfastness, 
that standing always in one place without moving of his body, 
he seemed to move no more than the stake to whicli he was 
bound. His eyes were lifted up unto heaven, and oftentimes he 
repeated, 'This hand hath offended; Oh ! this unworthy right 
hand,' fo long as his voice would suffer him : and using often 
the words of St. Stephen, ' TiOrd Jesus, receive my spirit,' in 
the greatness of the flame he gave up the ghost. 



A. D. 1556.] His sufferings mid death. 69 

*' This fortitude of mind, when friar John saw, thinking it 
came not of fortitude but of desperation, he ran to the lord 
Williams, crying, that the archbishop was vexed in mind, and 
died in great desperation. But he, aware of the archbishop's 
constancy, smiled, and, by silence, rebuked the friar's folly. 

*' And this was the end of the learned archbishop, whom, lest 
by evil subscribing he should have perished, by well recanting 
God preserved ; and lest he should have lived longer with 
shame and reproof, it pleased God rather to take him away, to 
the glory of his name and the profit of the church."* 

The principal writings of Cranmer have been already men- 
tioned. Strype has given a list of several minor pieces, which 
for the most part have reference to the subjects principally agi- 
tated in those times. Many letters written by him, also some 
volumes of the numerous passages or common-places collected 
during the course of his extensive reading, have also been pre- 
served. These manuscripts are chiefly to be found in the library 
of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and among the Cotton 
manuscripts in the British Museum ; there are some in the pa- 
lace at Lambeth. Few of them possess much interest for the 
reader of the present day, excepting as historical documents; as 
such they are valuable, and many of them have been printed 
by Burnet and Strype. Cranmer's correspondence with the 
German reformers doubtless contained much valuable matter, 
and if carefully sought for in the libraries on the continent, 
some precious remains might probably be recovered. Cranmer 
also wrote a part of the book of Homilies. There is no doubt 
of his being the author of the homily of Salvation. Dr. Words- 
worth conjectures that those of the misery of all mankind, of 
true and lively faith, and of good works, also proceeded from 
his pen. It is hardly necessary to add, that all his writings 
were prohibited during the reign of Mary, as heretical. 

Cranmer's anxiety to promote the reformation in England was 
also shown by his kind reception and entertainment of several 
learned foreigners, some of whom he induced to settle in Eng- 
land, and others he received when exiles for religion. Among 
the former was IMartin Bucer, who had been most active in 
promoting the reformation in Germany, and who was hiarhly 
esteemed for his moderation and piety. While these excellent 
men were under his roof, Cranmer employed them in various 
ways connected with the furtherance of the truth. When the 
Interim was enforced in Germany, in 1549, there were in Cran- 
mer's house at one trme, Bucer, Alasco, Martyr, Fagius, Alex- 
ander, Ochinus, the younger Jonas, and others^ several of whom 

* All the main circumstances of this narrative of Cranmer's end, are 
given in the narrative of a Romanist who was present. His account is 
printed in Strype's Memorials of Cranmer, from a MS. now in the Har- 
leian collection. 

7* 



70 Cranmer. — Life, [a. d. 1556. 

were soon after settled in the English universities. Bucer was 
nominated public professor of divinity, and Fagius of the He- 
brew, at Cambridge, but they died after a short residence there. 
In the reign of queen Mary, their remains were publicly burned. 
By Cranmer's particular direction, their lectures were to illus- 
trate and interpret the scripture. Martyr was settled at Ox- 
ford, where he engaged in a public disputation with the Ro- 
manists respecting the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Martyr 
continued in England till the commencement of queen Mary's 
reign, when he retired to the continent. His wife having died 
during their abode at Oxford, the papists, in the reign of Mary, 
•took up her body and buried it in a dunghill. Both Bucer and 
Martyr were employed by Cranmer in the revision of the book 
of common prayer. Alasco settled at London as pastor of 
the Dutch congregation, to whom the church of the Augustine 
monastery in Throgmorton-street was granted for their place 
of worship. An Italian church was also settled at London, 
and at Glastonbury one composed of refugees from Strasburg. 
This care of foreigners, and allowing them to use their own 
rites and ceremonies unmolested, shows considerable progress 
towards correct views of toleration. Latimer also resided at 
Lambeth very often during this reign — and other names might 
be mentioned, proving that Cranmer did not restrict his bounty 
to foreigners alone. 

Cranmer's second wife survived him, and also some of his 
children, but Strype was unable to ascertain the number of his 
family or any particulars concerning them w^orthy of notice ; 
a son and a daughter were alive after the accession of Eliza- 
beth. Among his chaplains were Dr. Taylor, the martyr, Po- 
nct, and Becon. 

This account of archbishop Cranmer cannot be concluded 
better than in the words of Dr. Laurence : — 

"Cranmer's fate has been peculiarly hard. Living in evil 
days, and exposed after his death to the malice of evil tongues, 
he has suffered in almost every part of his reputation. Papists 
have impeached the sincerity, while protestants have doubted 
the steadiness of his principles; and a too general idea seems 
to prevail that his opinions were for ever fluctuating, or at least 
so flexible as to have rendered him little better than a weak in- 
strument in the liands of those who possessed more talent and 
more consistency. But the fact was far otherwise. He was 
in truth the chief promoter and the ablest advocate of the re- 
formation ; planning it with the discretion of a prudent, and 
the zeal of a good man, and carrying it on towards perfection 
with a flrmness, a wistlom, and a liberality, which obtained him 
no less credit for the endowments of his head, than the impres- 
sions of his lieart." 



THE 
LIFE, ADMONITION, AND MARTYRDOM 

OF 

JOHN ROGERS. 



John Rogers was brought up in the university of Cam- 
bridge, where he profitably travailed in good learning, and 
at the length was chosen and called by the merchants ad- 
venturers to be their chaplain at Antwerp in Brabant. He 
served them to their good contentm^t many years. He 
there fell in company with that worthy servant and martyr 
of God, William Tindal, and with Miles Coverdale, both of 
whom, for the hatred they bare to popish superstitions and 
idolatry, and love to true religion, had forsaken their native 
country. In conferring the Scriptures with them, he came 
to great knowledge in the gospel of God, insomuch that he 
cast off the heavy yoke of popery, perceiving it to be im- 
pure ai;id filthy idolatry, and joined himself with them two, 
in that most painful and profitable labour of translating 
the Bible into the English tongue, which is entitled. The 
Translation of Thomas Mathcw.* He, knowing by the 
Scriptures that unlawful vows may lawfully be broken, and 
that matrimony is both honest and honourable amongst 
all men, joined himself in lawful matrimony; and so went 
to Wittemberg in Saxony, where he with much soberness 
of living did not only greatly increase in all good and 
godly learning, but also so much profited in the knowledge 
of the German tongue, that the charge of a congregation 
was orderly committed to his cure. 

In which ministry he diligently and faithfully served 
many years, until such time as it pleased God by the faith- 
ful travail of his chosen and dear servant king Edward the 
sixth, utterly to banish all popery out of England, and to 
receive in true religion, setting God's gospel at liberty. He 

* This was the second printed edition of the Engrlish Bible; it 
was edited hy Coverdale, assisted by Rogers, and was sanctioned by 
royal authority. T^e New Testament, and the first half of the Old, 
were from TindaPs version, the remainder from Covcrdale's. 

294 



Life. 3 

then, being orderly called, having both a conscience, and 
a ready good will to help forward the work of the Lord in 
his native country, left such honest and certain conditions 
as he had in Saxony, and came into England to preach 
the gospel, without certainty of any condition. In which 
office, after he had a space diligently and faithfully travail- 
ed, Nicholas Ridley, then bishop of London, gave him a 
prebend in the cathedral church of St. Paul ; and the dean 
and chapter chose him to be the reader of the divinity lec- 
ture there, wherein he diligently travailed, until such time 
as queen Mary, obtaining the crown, banished the gospel 
and true religion, and brought in the antichrist of Rome, 
with his idolatry and superstition. 

After the queen was come to the tower of London, (Au- 
gust 3d, 1553,) Rogers, being orderly called thereunto, 
made a godly and vehement sermon at Paul's cross, con- 
firming such true doctrine as he and others had there taught 
in king Edward's days, exhorting the people constantly to 
remain in the same, and to beware of all pestilent popery, 
idolatry, and superstition. The council being then over- 
matched with popish and bloody bishops, called him to ac- 
count for his sermon. To whom he made a stout, wise, 
and godly answer, and yet so conducted himself that at that 
time he was clearly dismissed. But after that proclama- 
tion was set forth by the queen to prohibit true preaching, 
(August 18th,) he was called again before the council; for 
the bishops thirsted after his blood. The council quarrel- 
led with him concerning his doctrine, and in conclusion 
commanded him to keep his own house as prisoner,* and 
so he did ; although by flying he might easily have escaped 
their cruel hands, and many things there were which might 
have moved him thereunto. He saw that the recovery of 
religion in England at that time seemed to be desperate ; he 
knew he could not want a living in Germany, and he could 
not forget his wife and ten children, and wished to seek 
means to succour them. But all these things set apart, 
after he was called to answer in Christ's cause, he would 
not depart from the realm, but stoutly stood in defence of 

* From the state papers of William Cecil, lord Burghley, it ap- 
pears that Rogers was confined to his house rather earlier; he says, 
*' August 16th, John Rogers, alias Mathew, a seditious preacher, 
was ordered by the lords of the council to keep himself as prisoner 
in his house at Paul's, without conference with any person, other 
than such as are daily with him in household, until such time as he 
hath contrary commandment." 

295 



4 Rogers. 

the same, and for the trial of that truth was content to 
hazard his life. 

In April, 1554, there was an intention to send Rogers, 
and some other protestant divines to Cambridge, to be there 
disputed with, as Cranmer and others had been " baited" at 
Oxlbrd; but he and others signed a declaration, that they 
would not dispute, excepting before the queen and parlia- 
ment, or a fair hearing and opportunity to speak their 
minds were allowed them. 

Thus he remained in his own house as prisoner a long 
time, till at the length, through the uncharitable procure- 
ment of Bonner, bishop of London, who could not abide 
such honest neighbours to dwell by him, he was removed 
from his own house to the prison called Newgate, where he 
was lodged among thieves and murderers, for a great space; 
during which time, what business he had with the adversa- 
ries of Christ, is not all known ; neither yet is there any 
certainty of his examinations, further than he himself did 
leave in writing, which God would not to be lost, but to 
remain for a perpetual testimony in the cause of God's truth, 
as here follows, recorded and testified by his own writing. 

The examination and ansicer of John Rogers, made to the 
lord chancellor, and to the rest of the council,, the 22d 
of January, 1555; perined by himself 

The Lord Chancellor (bishop Gardiner,) First, the lord 
chancellor said unto me thus ; Sir, ye have heard of the 
state of the realm in which it standcth now. 

Rogers, No, my lord, I have been kept in close prison, 
and except there have been some general things said at 
the table, when I was at dinner or supper, I have heard 
nothing; and there have I heard nothing whereupon any 
special thing might be grounded. 

L, C, Then said the lord cliancellor, General things, 
general things, mockingly; Ye have heard of my lord 
cardinal's coming, and that the parliament hath received 
his blessing, not one resisting unto it, but one man who 
did speak against it.* Such a unky, and such a miracle 

* Cardinal Pole arrived in England in the Novcmlx?r preceding", as 
legale from the j>op(;. The kin^ and queen, and all the members of 
both houses of parliament, kneeled down before him to entreat par- 
don and absolution for tlie kingdom. Tliere was only one exception, 
Sir Ralph Hagnal, who refused to consent to this submission, others 
were of the same mind, but had not courage to speak out. See Strype. 
296 



First Examination, 6 

has not been seen. One that was by, whose name T know 
not, said, And all they, of whom there are eight score in 
one house, have with one assent and consent received 
pardon of their offences, for the schism that we had in 
England, in refusing the holy father of Rome to be head 
of the catholic church. How say ye, are ye content to 
unite, and knit yourself to the faith of the catholic church, 
with us, in the state in which it is now in England ; will 
ye do that? 

R, The catholic church I never did nor will dissent from. 

L, C, Nay; but I speak of the state of the catholic 
church in that wise in which we stand now in England, 
having received the pope to be supreme head. 

R, I know none other head but Christ of his catholic 
church, neither will I acknowledge the bishop of Rome to 
have any more authority than any other bishop hath, by 
the word of God, and by the doctrine of the old and pure 
catholic church four hundred years afler Christ. 

L. C, Why didst thou then acknowledge king Henry 
the eighth to be supreme head of the church, if Christ be 
the only head? 

R. I never granted him to have any supremacy in spiri- 
tual things, as the forgiveness of sins, giving of the Holy 
Ghost, and authority to be a judge above the word of God. 

2>. C Yea, said he, and Tonstal bishop of Durham, and 
the bishop of Worcester. — If thou hadst said so in his 
days, (and they nodded the head at me with laughter,) 
thou hadst not been alive now. 

I denied, and would have told how he was said and 
meant to be supreme head. But they looked and laughed 
one upon another, and made such i business, that I was 
constrained to let it pass. There lies also no great weight 
thereupon; for all the world knows what the meaning 
was. The lord chancellor also said to the lord William 
Howard, that there was no inconvenience therein, to have 
Christ to be supreme head and the bishop of Rome also ; 
and when I was ready to have answered that there could 
not be two heads of one church, and to have more plainly 
declared the vanity of that his reason, the lord chancellor 
said. What sayest thou? Make us a direct answer whether 
thou wilt be one of this catholic church, or not, with us, in 
that state in which we now are. 

R, My lord, without fail I cannot believe that ye your- 
selves do think in your hearts that he is supreme head in 

26^ 297 






6 Rogers, 

forgiving of sin, &c. Seeing you and all the bishops of 
the realm have now twenty years long preached, and some 
of you also written to the contrary, and the parliament has 
so long ago consented unto it. And there he interrupted 
me thus. 

L, C. Tush, that parliament was with most great cru- 
elty constrained to abolish and put away the primacy from 
the bishop of Rome. 

R, With cruelty ! Why then I perceive that you take 
a wrong way with cruelty to persuade men's consciences. 
For it should appear by your doings now, that the cruelty 
then used has not persuaded your consciences. How would 
you then have our consciences persuaded with cruelty? 

L, C I talk to thee of no cruelty — but that they were 
so often and so cruelly called upon in that parliament to let 
the act go forward ; yea, and even with force driven there- 
unto; whereas in this parliament it was so uniformly re- 
ceived, as is aforesaid. 

Here my lord Paget told me more plainly, what my lord 
chancellor meant. Unto whom I answered: 

R, My lord, what will you conclude thereby? that the 
first parliament was of less authority, because but few con- 
sented unto it : and this last parliament of greater authori- 
ty, because more consented unto it? It goes not, my lord, 
by the more or lesser part, but by the wiser, truer, and 
godlier part. — And I would have said more, but the lorrf 
chancellor interrupted me with his question, willing me 
once again to answer him. "'For," said he, " we have 
more to speak wilh than thou, who must come in after 
thee." — And so indeed there were ten persons more out 
of Newgate, besides two that were not called. Of which 
ten, one was a citizen of London, who yielded unto them, 
and nine were contrary; all of whom came to prison again, 
and refused the cardinaFs blessing, and the authority of 
his holy father's church, saving that one of these nine was 
not asked the cjuestiou, otherwise tlian thus, Whether he 
would be an hon(;st man, as his father was before him? 
and he answered, Yea; so he was discharged by the 
friendship of my lord William Howard, as I have under- 
stood, lie bade me tell him what I would do; whether 
I would enter into the one church with the whole re^im as 
it is now, or not? No, said I, I will first see it proved 
by the Scriptures. Let me liave pen, ink, books, <kc., 
and I will takp upon me plainly to set out the matter, so. 
298 



I 



First Examination, 7 

that the contrary shall be proved to be true; and let any 
man that will, confer with me by writing. 

L, C, Nay, that shall not be permitted thee. Thou 
shalt never have so much proffered thee as thou hast now, 
if thou refuse it, and wilt not now consent and agree to 
the catholic church. Here are two things, mercy and jus- 
tice : if thou refuse the queen's mercy now, then shalt thou 
have justice ministered unto thee. 
» jR. I never offended, nor was disobedient unto her grace, 
and yet I w^ill not refuse her mercy. But if this shall be 
denied me, to confer by writing, and to try out the truth, 
then it is not well, but too far out of the way. Ye your- 
selves, all the bishops of the realm, brought me to abjure 
the pretended primacy of the bishop of Rome, when I was 
a young man, tw^enty years past; and wdll ye now, with- 
out collation, have me to say and do the contrary? I can- 
not be so persuaded. 

L. C, If thou wilt not receive the bishop of Rome to be 
supreme head of the catholic church, then thou shalt never 
have her mercy, thou mayest be sure. And as touching 
conferring and trial, I am forbidden by the Scriptures to 
use any conferring and trial with thee. For St. Paul 
teaches me, that I should shun and eschew a heretic after 
one or two monitions, knowing that such a one is over- 
thrown and is faulty, insomuch as he is condemned by 
his own judgment. 

R, My lord, I deny that I am a heretic ; prove ye that 
first, and then allege the aforesaid text. — But still the lord 
chancellor played on one string, saying, 

L, C, If thou wilt enter into one church with us, &;c. 
tell us that, or else thou shalt never have so much prof- 
fered thee again, as thou hast now. 

R, I will find it first in the Scripture, and see it tried 
thereby, before I receive him to be supreme head. 

Worcester, Why, do ye not know what is in your creed, 
I believe the holy catholic church? 

R. I find not the bishop of Rome there. For " catholic" 
signifies not the Romish church; it signifies the consent 
of all true teaching churches of all times, and of all ages. 
But how should the bishop of Rome's church be one of 
them, which teaches so many doctrines that are plainly 
and directly against the word of God? Can that bishop 
be the true head of the catholic church that does so? 
That is not possible. 

299 



8 Rogers, 

L. C, Show me one of them ; one ; let me hear one. 

I remembered myself, that among so many I were best 
to show one, and said, I will show you one. 

L. C, Let me hear that, let me hear that. 

jR. The bishop of Rome and his church say, read, and 
sing all that they do in their congregations in Latin, which 
is directly and plainly against the first to the Corinthians, 
the fourteenth chapter. 

L. C, I deny that, I deny that that is against the word# 
of God. Let me see you prove that; how prove you that? 

Then I began to say the text from the beginning of the 
chapter; To speak with tongues, said I, is to speak with a 
strange tongue, as Latin or Greek, &c. and so to speak is 
not to speak unto men, but unto God (meaning God only 
at the most.) But ye speak in Latin, which is a strange 
tongue, wherefore ye speak not unto men, but unto God. 
This be granted, that they speak not unto men, but unto God. 

L, C. Well, then, is it vain unto men? 

R, No, not in vain. For one man speaketh in one 
tongue, and another in another tongue, and all well. 

L. C. Nay, I will prove then that he speaks neither 
unto God nor unto man, but unto the wind. 

I was willing to have declared how these two texts do 
agree, for they must agree, they both are the sayings of 
the Holy Ghost, spoken by the apostle Paul, as. To speak 
not to men, but unto God, and To speak unto the wind: 
and so I would have gone forward with the proof of my 
matter begun, but here arose a noise and a confusion. 
Then said the lord chancellor, 

Z/. C To speak unto God, and not unto God, were im- 
possible. 

jR. I will prove them possible. 

Nay, saith my lord William Howard to my lord chan- 
cellor, now will 1 bear you witness that he is out of the 
way. For he grants first, that they which speak in a 
strange speech speak unto God; and now he saith the con- 
trary, that they speak neither to God nor to inan. 

R. {turning to viy lord Howard.) I have not granted 
or said as you report. I have alleged the one text, and 
now I am come to the other; they must agree, and I can 
make them to agree. But as for you, you understand not 
the matter. 

L, H, I understand so much, that it is not possible. 

This is a point of sophistry, quoth secretary Bourn. 

300 



First Examination, 9 

Then the lord chancellor began to tell the lord Howard, 
that when he was in Germany, they at Halle, which had 
before prayed and used their service in German, began then 
to turn part into Latin, and part into German. 

W. Yea, and at Wittemberg too. 

R, Yea, {but I could not he heard for their noise,) in 
a university, where men for the most part understood the 
Latin — and yet not all in Latin — And I would have told 
the order, and have gone forward both to have answered 
my lord, and to have proved the thing that I had taken in 
hand ; but perceiving their talk and noise to be too noisome, 
I was fain to think this in my heart, suffering them in the 
mean while to talk one of them one thing, and another 
another. Alas ! neither will these men hear me if I speak, 
neither yet will they suffer me to write. There is no re- 
medy, but let them alone, and commit the matter to God. 
Yet I began to go forward, and said, that I would make the 
texts to agree, and to prove my purpose w^ell enough. 

L, C, No, no, thou canst prove nothing by the Scrip- 
ture. The Scripture is dead; it must have a lively expo- 
sitor. 

jR. No, the Scripture is alive. But let me go forward 
with my purpose. 

W, All heretics have alleged the Scriptures for them, 
and therefore we must have a lively expositor for them. 

R, Yea, all heretics have alleged the Scriptures for them ; 
but they were confuted by the Scriptures, and by no other 
expositor. 

W, But they would not confess that they were over- 
come by the Scriptures, I am sure of that. 

jR. I believe that : and yet were they overcome by them, 
and in all the councils they were disputed with and over- 
thrown by the Scriptures. And here I would have declared 
how they ought to proceed in these days, and so have come 
again to my purpose, but it was impossible; for one asked 
one thing, another said another, so that I was fain to hold 
my peace, and let them talk. And even when 1 would 
have taken hold of my proof, the lord chancellor bade to 
prison with me again ; and. Away, away, said he, we have 
more to talk withal; if I would not be reformed, so he 
termed it, away, away. Then up I stood, for I had kneel- 
ed all the while. 

Then sir Richard Southwell, who stood by in a window, 

301 



10 Rogers. 

said to me, Thou wilt not burn in this gear when it comes 
to the purpose, I know well that. 

R, Sir, I cannot tell, but I trust to my Lord God, yes — 
lifting up mine eyes unto heaven. 

Then my lord of Ely told me much of tjie queen's 
majesty's pleasure and meaning, and set it out with large 
words, saying, that she took them that would not receive 
the bishop of* Rome's supremacy, to be unworthy to have 
her mercy, &c. 

I said I would not refuse her mercy, and yet I never 
offended her in all my life; and that I besought her grace 
and all their honours to be good to me, reserving my con- 
science. 

Several spake at once. No? said they then, (a great 
sort of them, and specially secretary Bourn,) a married 
priest, and have not offended the law? 

I said, I had not broken the queen's law, nor yet any 
point of the law of the realm therein, for I married where 
it was lawful. 

Several at once. Where w^as that? said they; thinking 
that to be unlawful in all places. 

R, In Germany. And if ye had not here in England 
made an open law that priests might have had wives, I 
would never have come home again; lor I brought a wife 
and eight children with me; which ye might be sure that 
I would not have done, if the laws of the realm had not 
permitted it before. 

Then there was a great noise, some saying, that I was 
come too soon with such a sort; that I should find a sour 
coming of it; and some one thing and some another: and 
one, I could not well perceive who, said, that there was 
never a catholic man or country, that ever granted that a 
priest might have a wife. 

I said that the catholic church never denied marriage 
to priests, nor yet to any other man ; and therewith was I 
going out of the chamber, the sergeant who brought me 
thither having me by the arm. 

Tlien the bishop of Worcester turned his face towards 
me, and said that I wist not where that church was or is. 

1 said, yes, that I could tell where it was — but therewith 
went the sergeant with me out of the door. 

This was the very true cifect of all that was spoken unto 
me, and of all that 1 answered thereunto. 

30:2 



Second Examination, 11 

And here would I gladly make a more perfect answer to 
all the former objections, as also a due proof of that which 
I had taken in hand ; but at this present I was informed that 
I should to-morrow come to further answer. Wherefore 
I am compelled to leave out that which I would most glad- 
ly have done, desiring here the hearty and unfeigned help 
of the prayers of all Christ's true members, the true sons 
of the unfeigned catholic church, that the Lord God of all 
consolation will now be my comfort, aid, strength, buckler, 
and shield ; as also of all my brethren that are in the same 
case and distress, that I and they all may despise all man- 
ner of threats and cruelty, and even the bitter burning fire, 
and the dreadful dart of death, and stick like true soldiers 
to our dear and loving Captain, Christ, our only Redeemer 
and Saviour, and also the true Head of the church; that 
doeth all in us all, which is the very property of a head, 
and is a thing that all the bishops of Rome cannot do, and 
that we do not traitorously run out of his tents, or rather 
out of the plain field from him, into the most jeopardy of 
the battle ; but that we may persevere in the fight, if he will 
not otherwise deliver us, till we be most cruelly slain of his 
enemies. For this I most heartily, and at this present with 
weeping tears, most instantly and earnestly desire, and be- 
seech you all to pray ; and also, if I die, to be good to my 
poor and most honest wife, being a poor stranger, and all 
my little souls, hers and m.y children; whom with all the 
whole faithful and true catholic congregation of Christ, the 
Lord of life and death, save, keep, and defend in all the 
troubles and assaults of this vain world, and bring at the 
last to everlasting salvation, the true and sure inheritance 
of all crossed Christians. Amen. Amen. 

The 27th day of January at night. 

John Rogers. 

The second confession of John Rogers^ made, and that 
should have been made, if I might have been heard, the 
28th and 29th days of January, 1555. 

First, Being asked again by the lord chancellor, whether 
I would come into one church with the bishops and whole 
realm, as now was concluded by parliament, in the which 
all the realm was converted to the catholic church of Rome, 
and so receive the mercy before proffered me, arising again 
with the whole realm out of the schism and error in which 
we had long been, with recantation of my errors — I an- 

303 



12 Rogers, 

swered, that before I could not tell what his mercy meant, 
but now I understood that it was a mercy of the antichris- 
tian church of Rome, which I utterly refused, and that the 
rising, which he sj)ake of, was a very fall into error and 
false doctrine. Also that I had, and would be able, by 
God's grace, to prove that all the doctrine which I had ever 
taught was true and catholic, and that by the Scriptures, 
and the authority of the fathers who lived four hundred 
years after Christ's death. He answered, that should not, 
might not, and ought not to be granted me ; for I was but 
a private man, and might not be heard against the deter- 
mination of the whole realm. Should, quoth he, when a 
parliament hath concluded a thing, one or any private 
person have authority to discuss, whether they have done 
right or wrong? No, that may not be. 

I answered shortly, that all the laws of men might not, 
neither could rule the word of God; but that they all must 
be discussed and judged thereby, and obey thereunto; and 
neither my conscience, nor any Christian man's, could be 
satisfied with such laws as disagreed from that word. And 
so was willing to have said much more, but the lord chan- 
cellor began a long tale to very small purpose, concerning 
mine answer, to have debased me, that there was nothing 
in me wherefore I should be heard, but arrogancy, pride, 
and vain -glory. I also granted mine ignorance to be great- 
er than I could express, or than he took it; but yet that I 
feared not, by God's assistance and strength, to be able by 
writing to perform my word; neither was I, I thanked God, 
so utterly ignorant as he would make me, but all was of 
God, to whom be thanks rendered therefore; proud man 
was I never, nor yet vain-glorious. All the world knew 
well, where and on what side, pride, arrogancy, and vain- 
glory was. It was a poor pride that was or is in us, God 
knoweth it. 

Then he said, that I at the first dash condemned the 
queen and the whole realm to be of the church of anti- 
christ, and he burdened me highly therewithal. I answer- 
ed, tiiat the queen's majesty, God save her grace, would 
have done well enough, if it had not been for his counsel. 
He said, the (juoen went before him, and it was her own 
motion. 1 said without fail, I neither could, nor would I 
ever believe it.* 

* There aflcrwnrda apix^nrcd but too much probability of the truth 
of this asRcrtion of Gardiner. 
804 



Second Examination, 13 

Then said doctor Aldrich, the bishop of Carlisle, that they 
the bishops would bear them witness. Yea, quoth I, that I 
Wieve well ; and with that the people laughed ; for that day- 
there were many, but on the morrow they kept the doors 
shut, and would let none in but the bishops' adherents, and 
servants in a manner, yea, and the first day the thousandth 
man came not in. Then master Comptroller and secretary 
Bourn would have stood up also to bear witness and did so. 

I said it was no great matter; and to say the truth, I 
thought that they were good helpers thereto themselves; 
but I ceased to say any more therein, knowing that they 
were too strong and mighty of power, and that they would 
be believed before me, yea, and before our Saviour Christ, 
and all his prophets, and apostles too, in these days. 

Then after many words he asked me what I thought 
concerning the blessed sacrament, and stood up, and put 
off his cap, and all his fellow-bishops, of which there were 
a great sort, new men, of whom I knew few, whether I 
believed the sacrament to be the very body and blood of 
our Saviour Christ, that was born of the virgin Mary, and 
hanged on the cross, really and substantially. 

I answered, I had often told him that it was a matter in 
which I was no meddler, and therefore was suspected of 
my brethren to be of a contrary opinion. Notwithstand- 
ing, even as the most part of. your doctrine in other parts 
is false, and the defence thereof only by force and cruelty : 
so in this matter I think it to be as false as the rest. For 
I cannot understand, " really and substantially," to signify 
otherwise than corporeally; but corporeally Christ is only 
in heaven, and so cannot Christ be corporeally also in your 
sacrament. And here I somewhat set out his charity after 
this sort. My lord, quoth I, ye have dealt with me most 
cruelly; for ye have put me in prison without law, and 
kept me there now almost a year and a half; for I was 
almost half a year in my house, where I was obedient to 
you, God knows, and spake with no man. And now have 
I been a full year in Newgate, at great cost and charges, 
having a wife and ten children to find, and I had never a 
penny of my livings ; which was against the law. 

He answered, that Dr. Ridley, who had given them me, 
was a usurper, and therefore I was the unjust possessor of 
them. 

Was the king then an usurper, quoth J, who gave Dr. 
Ridley the bishopric? 

ROGERS. 27 305 



1 4 Rogers, 

Yea, quoth he, and began to set out the wrongs that the 
king had done to the bishop of London, and to himself also. 
But yet I do misuse my terms, quoth he, to call the king 
usurper. But the word was gone out of the abundance of 
the heart before; and I think that he was not very sorry 
for it in heart. I might have said more concerning that 
matter, but I did not. 

I asked him wherefore he put me in prison? He said, 
because I preached against the queen. 

I answered, that it was not true; and I would be bound 
to prove it, and to stand to the trial of the law, that no 
man should be able to prove it, and thereupon would set 
my life. I preached, quoth I, a sermon at the cross, after 
the queen came to the Tower ; but therein was nothing said 
against the queen, I take witness of all the audience, which 
was not small. I alleged also that he had, after examina- 
tion, let me go at liberty after the preaching of that sermon. 

Yea, but thou didst read thy lectures after, quoth he, 
against the commandment of the council. 

That did I not, quoth I ; let that be proved, and let me 
die for it. Thus have you now against the law of God 
and man handled me, and never sent for me, never con- 
ferred with me, never spoken of any learning, till now that 
ye have gotten a whip to whip me with, and a sword to 
cut oft' my neck, if I will not condescend to your mind. 
This charity doth all the world understand.* 

I might and would have added, if I could have been 
suffered to speak, that it had been time enough to take 
away men's livings, and thereto to have imprisoned them, 
after they had oftended the laws ; for they arc good citizens 
that break not laws, and worthy of praise and not of pun- 
ishment. But their purpose is to keep men in prison, until 
they may catch them in their laws, and so kill them. I 
could and would have added the example of Daniel, who 
by a crafty-devised law was cast into the lions' den. 

Also, I might have declared, that I most humbly desi- 
red to be set at liberty, sending my wife to him (Gardiner) 

* Rogers here alludes to the laws against heretics originally enact- 
ed in the reigns of Richard II., Henry IV., and Henry V., which had 
been repealed a few years before, but were revived by an act brought 
into the house of Commons on the 12th December, 1554, and passed 
by tlie liords on the IHth; inmiediatcly aller which they began to ex- 
amine and jmt to deatli as heretics, the protestants who had hitherto 
been detained in prison on various pretences. 
306 



Second Examination. 15 

with a supplication, being great with child, and with her 
eight honest women, or thereabout, to Richmond, at Christ- 
mas was a twelvemonth, while I was yet in my house. 

Also, I wrote two supplications to him out of Newgate, 
and sent my wife many times to him. Master Gosnold* 
also, that worthy man, who is now departed in the Lord, 
laboured for me, and so did divers other worthy men also 
take pains in the matter. These things declare my lord 
chancellor's antichristian charity, which is, that he hath 
and doth seek my blood, and the destruction of my poor 
wife and my ten children. 

This is a short sum of the words which were spoken on 
the 28th day of January at afternoon, after that master 
Hooper had been the first, and master Cardmakerf the 
second, in examination before me. The Lord grant us 
grace to stand together, fighting lawfully in his cause till 
we be smitten down together, if the Lord's will be so to 
permit it: for there shall not a hair of our heads perish 
against his will, but with his will. Whereunto the Lord 
grant us to be obedient unto the end, and in the end. Amen. 
Sweet, mighty, and merciful Lord Jesus, the son of David, 
and of God. Amen, Amen, let every true Christian say 
and pray. 

Then the clock being as I guessed about four, the lord 
chancellor said that he and the church must yet use charity 
with me ; what manner of charity it is, all true Christians 
do well understand, namely, the same that the fox does 
with the chickens, and the wolf with the lambs, and he 
gave me respite till to-morrow, to see whether I would re- 
member myself well to-morrow, and whether I would return 
to the catholic church, for so he called his antichristian false 
church again, and repent, and they would receive me to 
mercy. 

I said, that I was never out of the true catholic church, 
nor would be : but into his church would I by God's grace 
never come. 

Well, quoth he, then is our church false and antichris- 
tian? Yes, quoth L 

And what is the doctrine of the sacrament? — False, 
quoth I ; and cast my hands abroad. 

Then said one, that I was a player. To whom I an- 
swered not ; for I passed not uponij: his mock. 

* Solicitor-general in the reign of Edward VI. 
t Cardmaker was a prebendary of Wells ; he was burned in Smith- 
field on the 30th of May following. t Cared not for. 

307 



16 Rogers, 

Come again, quoth the lord chancellor, to-morrow, be- 
tween nine and ten. 

I am ready to come again, whensover ye call, quoth I. 

And thus was I brought by the sheriffs to the compter 
in Southwark, master Hooper going before me, and a great 
multitude of people being present, so that we had much to 
do to go in the streets. 

Thus much was done the 28th day of January. 

The second day, which was the 29th of January, we 
were sent for in the morning, about nine of the clock, and 
by the sheriffs fetched from the compter in Southwark to 
the church again,* where we were the day before in the 
afternoon. And when master Hooper was condemned, as 
I understood afterwards, then sent they for me. Then the 
lord chancellor said unto me: 

Rogers, here thou wast yesterday, and we gave thee 
liberty to remember thyself this night, whether thou 
wouldest come to the holy catholic church of Christ again, 
or not. Tell us now, what thou hast determined, whether 
thou wilt be repentant and sorry, and wilt return again and 
take mercy. 

My lord, quoth I, I have remembered myself right well, 
what you yesterday said to me, and desire you to give me 
leave to declare my mind, what I have to say thereunto; 
and that done, I shall answer you to your demanded ques- 
tion. 

When I yesterday desired that I might be suffered by 
the Scriptures and authority of the first, best, and purest 
church to defend my doctrine by writing, meaning not only 
of the primacy, but also of all the doctrine that ever I had 
preached, ye answered me, that it might not, and ought 
not to be granted me, for I was a private person; and 
that the parliament was above the authority of all private 
persons, and therefore the sentence thereof mi^ht not be 
found faulty and valueless by me, being only a private per- 
son. And yet, my lord, quoth I, I am able to show exam- 
ples, that one man hath come into a general council, and 
afler the wholc^ had determined and agreed upon an act or 
article, some one man coming in afterwards, hath by the 
word of God, declared so })ithily that the council had erred 
in decreeing the said article, that he caused the whole 
council to change, and alter their act or article before de- 
termined. And of these examples, I am al^le to show two. 
* St. Saviour's, or St. Mary Overy, SouUiwark. 

308 



Third Examination. 17 

I can also show the authority of Augustine; that when 
he disputed with a heretic, he would neither himself, nor 
yet have the heretic to lean unto the determination of the 
two former councils, of the which the one made for him, 
and the other for the heretic that disputed against him , but 
said that he would have the Scriptures to be their judge, 
which were common and indifferently for them both, and 
not proper to either of them. 

Also, I could show, said I, the authority of a learned 
lawyer, (Panormitanus,) who saith, that unto a simple lay- 
man who brings the word of God with him, there ought 
more credit to be given, than to a whole council gathered 
together. By these things will I prove that I ought not 
to be denied to say my mind, and to be heard against a 
whole parliament, bringing the word of God for me and 
the authority of the old church four hundred years after 
Christ, albeit that every man in the parUament had will- 
ingly and without respect of fear and favour agreed there- 
unto, which I doubt not a little of, especially seeing the 
like had been permitted in that old church, even in general 
councils, yea, and that in one of the chiefest councils that 
ever was, unto which neither any acts of this parliament, 
nor yet any of the Jate general councils of the bishops of 
Rome, ought to be compared. For, said I, if Henry the 
eighth were alive, and should call a parliament, and begin 
to determine a thing, (and here I would have alleged the 
example of the act of making the queen a bastard, and of 
making himself the superior head; but I could not, being 
interrupted by one whom God forgive,*) then will ye 
(^pointing to my lord chancellor^) and ye, and ye, and so 
ye all, (pointing to the rest of the bishops) say Amen ; 
yea, and if it like your grace, it is meet that it be so 
enacted. 

Here my lord chancellor would suffer me to speak no 
more, but bade me sit down, mockingly saying, that I was 
sent for to be instructed of them, and I would take upon 
me to be their instructor. 

My lord, quoth I, I stand and sit not — shall I not be 
suffered to speak for my life? 

Shall we suffer thee to tell a tale, and to prate? quoth 

he. — And with that he stood up, and began to face me, 

afler his old arrogant proud fashion; for he perceived 

that I was in a way to have touched them somewhat, which 

* Sir Anthony Brown. 

27* 309 



18 Rogers. 

he thought to hinder by dashing me out of my tale, and 
so he did. For I could never be suffered to come to my tale 
again, no, not to one word of it; but he had much like 
communication with me, as he had the day before, and as 
his manner is, taunt upon taunt, and check upon check. 
For in that case, being God's cause, I told him he shoqld 
not make me afraid to speak. 

See, what a spirit this fellow has, said he; finding fault 
at mine accustomed earnestness, and hearty manner of 
speaking. 

I have a true spirit, quoth I, agreeing and obeying the 
word of God ; and would further have said, that 1 was \ 
never the worse, but the better to be earnest in a just and * 
true cause, and in my Master Christ's matters ; but I could ' 
not be heard. 

And at the length he proceeded towards his excommuni- 
cation and condemnation, afler that I had told him that his 
church of Rome was the church of antichrist, meaning the 
false doctrine and tyrannical laws, with the maintenance 
thereof by cruel persecutions used by the bishops of the 
said church, of which the bishop of Winchester and the rest 
of his fellow-bishops that are now in England are the chief 
members : of the laws I mean, quoth I, and not all the men 
and women which are in the pope's church. 

Likewise, when I was said to have denied their sacra- 
ment, whereof lie made his wonted reverent mention, more 
to maintain liis kingdom thereby, than for the true reve- 
rence of Christ's institution; more for his own and his 
popish generation's sake, than for religion or God's sake — 
1 told him ajler what order I did speak of it; for the man- 
ner of his speaking was not agreeing to my words, which 
are before recited in the communication that we had on 
th(3 28tli of January, wherewith he was not contented, but 
he asked tlie auiUencc whetlicr I liad not simply denied 
th(r sacrament. Tliey would have said and done what he 
listed, for the most of them were of his own servants at 
that day; the 29th of January I mean. At the last I 
said, I will never deny what I said, which is. That your 
doctrine of the sacrament is false; but yet I tell you afler 
what order 1 said it. 

To be short, he read my condemnation before me, par- 
ticularly nuMilioning therein but two articles; first, that I 
jlVirmed the Romish catholic churcJi to be the church of 
antichrist; and that I denied the reality of their sacraments. 

310 



Sentence Condemnatory, 19 

He caused nie to be degraded and condemned, and put into 
the hands of the laity, and so he gave me over into the she- 
riff's hands, which were much better than his. 

The copy of this condemnation here I thought good to 
put down in English, to the intent that the same, being 
here once expressed, may serve for all other sentences 
condemnatory through the whole history to be referred 
unto. — (Fox.) 

The sentence condemnatory against master Rogers. 

In the name of God, Amen. We, Stephen, by the per- 
mission of God, bishop of Winchester, lawfully and rightly 
proceeding, with all godly favour, by authority and virtue 
of our office, against thee, John Rogers, priest, alias, called 
Mathew, before us personally here present, being accused 
and detected, and notoriously slandered of heresy ; having 
heard, seen, and understood, and with all dihgent delibe- 
ration, w^eighed, discussed, and considered the merits of the 
cause, all things being observed, which by us in this behalf 
in order of law ought to be observed, sitting in our judg- 
ment-seat, the name of Christ being first called upon, and 
having God only before our eyes. Because, by the acts 
enacted, propounded, and exhibited in this matter, and by 
thine own confession, judicially made before us, we do find 
that thou hast taught, holden and affirmed, and obstinately 
defended, divers errors, heresies, and damnable opinions, 
contrary to the doctrine and determination of the holy 
church; as, namely, these, that the catholic church of 
Rome is the church of antichrist; also, that in the sacra- 
ment of the altar there is not, substantially nor really, the 
natural body and blood of Christ. The which aforesaid 
heresies and damnable opinions, being contrary to the 
law of God, and the determination of the universaLand 
apostolical church, thou hast arrogantly, stubbornly, and 
wittingly, maintained, held, and affirmed, and also de- 
fended before us, as well in this judgment, as also other- 
wise; and with the like obstinacy, stubbornness, malice, 
and blindness of heart, both wittingly and willingly, hast 
affirmed that thou wilt believe, maintain, and hold, affirm 
and declare the same. We, therefore, Stephen Winches- 
ter, bishop, ordinary and diocesan aforesaid, by the con- 
sent and assent, as well of our reverend brethren, the lords 

311 



20 Rogers, 

bishops here present and assistant, as also by the counsel 
and judgment of divers worshipful lawyers and professors 
of divinity with whom we have communicated in this 
behalf, do declare and pronounce thee, the said John 
Rogers, otherwise called Mathew, through thy demerits, 
transgressions, and obstinacies and wilfulness, which thy 
manifold ways hast incurred by thy own wicked and stub- 
born obstinacy, to have been and to be guilty of the detest- 
able, horrible, and wicked offence of heretical pravity and^ 
execrable doctrine; and that thou hast before us, sundry 
times spoken, maintained, and wittingly and stubbornly 
defended the said cursed and execrable doctrine in thy sun- 
dry confessions, assertions, and recognitions, here judicially 
before us oftentimes repeated, and yet dost still maintain, 
affirm, and believe the same, and that thou hast been, and 
art, lawfully and ordinarily convicted in this behalf. We 
therefore, I say, albeit, following the example of Christ, 
which would not the death of a sinner, but rather that he 
should convert and live, we have gone about oflentimes to 
correct thee, and by all lawful means that we could, and 
all wholesome admonitions that we did know, to reduce 
thee again unto the true faith and unity of the universal 
catholic church, notwithstanding have found thee obstinate 
and stiff-necked, willingly continuing in thy damnable 
opinions and heresies, and refusing to return again unto 
the true faith and unity of the holy mother church; and as 
the child of wickedness and darkness thou hast so hard- 
ened thy heart, that thou wilt not understand the voice of 
thy shepherd, which with a fatherly aflection doth seek 
after thee, nor will be allured with his fatherly and godly 
admonitions. — We, therefore, Stephen, the bishop afore- 
said, not willing that thou, which art wicked, shouldst 
now become more wicked, and infect the Lord's flock with 
thy heresy, which we are greatly afraid of, with sorrow of 
mind and bitterness of heart do judge liiee, and defini- 
tively condemn thee, the said John Rogers, otherwise 
called Mathew, thy demerits and defaults being aggra- 
vated through thy damnable obstinacy, as guilty of most 
detestable heresies, and as an obstinate impenitent sinner, 
refusing penitently to return to the lap and unity of the 
holy mother church, and that thou hast been and art by 
law excommunicate, and do pronounce and declare thee to 
be an excommunicated person. Also we pronounce and 
declare thee, being a heretic, to be cast out from the 
312 



Sentence condemnatory. 21 

church, and left unto the judgment of the secular power, 
and now presently do leave thee as an obstinate heretic, 
and a person wrapped in the sentence of the great curse, 
to be degraded worthily for thy demerits, (requiring them, 
notwithstanding, in the bowels of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
that this execution and punishment worthily to be done upon 
thee, may so be moderated, that the rigour thereof be not 
too extreme, nor yet the gentleness too much mitigated, but 
that it may be to the salvation of thy soul, to the extirpa- 
tion, terror, and conversion of the heretics, to the unity of 
the catholic faith,*) by this our sentence definitive, which 
we here lay upon and against thee, and do with sorrow of 
heart promulgate in this form aforesaid. 

After this sentence being read, he sent us, master 
Hooper, I mean, and me, to the Clink, there to remain till 
night; and when it was dark they carried us, master 
Hooper going before with the one sheriff, and I coming 
after with the other, with bills and weapons enough, out 
of the Clink, and led us through the bishop's house, and 
so through St. Mary's churchyard, and so into Southwark, 
and over the bridge, in procession to Newgate, through 
the city. But I must show you this also, that when he had 
read the condemnation, he declared that I was in the great 
curse, and what a vengeablef dangerous matter it was to 
eat and drink with us that were accursed, or to give us any 
thing; for all that did so, should be partakers of the same 
great curse. 

Well, my lord, quoth I, here I stand before God and 
you, and all this honourable audience, and take him to 
witness, that I never wittingly or willingly taught any false 
doctrine; and therefore have I a good conscience before 
God and all good men. I am sure that you and I shall 
come before a Judge that is righteous, before whom I shall 
be as good a man as you ; and I nothing doubt but that I 
shall be found there a true member of the true catholic 
church of Christ, and everlastingly saved. And as for your 
false church, you need not excommunicate me forth of it. 
I have not been in it these twenty years, the Lord be thank- 

* This clause was always inserted in the condemnation of the pro- 
fessors of the truth, by the Romish ecclesiastics, although they well 
knew that the only course which the civil authorities dared to follow, 
was to burn those so recommended to their mercy. 

t Deserving of punishment. 

313 



22 Rogers, 

ed therefore! But now ye have done what you can, my 
lord, I pray you yet grant me one thing. 

What is that ? quoth he. 

That my poor wife, being a stranger, may come and 
speak with me so long as I live. For she hath ten children 
that are hers and mine-; and somewhat I would counsel 
her what were best for her to do. 

No, quoth he ; she is not thy wife. 

Yes, my lord, quoth I, and hath been these eighteen 
years. 

Should I grant her to be thy wife? quoth he. 

Choose you, quoth I, whether you will or not, she shall 
be so, nevertheless. 

She shall not come at thee, quoth he. 

Then I have tried out all your charity, said I. You 
make yourself highly displeased with the matrimony of 
priests, but you maintain open whoredom, as in Wales, 
quoth I, where every priest hath his harlot openly dwelling 
with him ; and even as your holy father suifereth all the 
priests in Germany and in France to do the like. Thereto 
he answered not, but looked, as it were, a-squint at it; and 
thus I departed and saw him for the last time. 



Other good matter there is besides, penned by master 
Rogers in the prison, which he thought he would have an- 
swered, if he might have been permitted; which matter 
here follows, as set down by himself. 

Hitherto, dearly beloved, ye have heard what was said ; 
now hear what I proposed the night before to have said, if 
I could have been permitted. Two things I purposed to 
have touched. The one, how it was lawful for a private 
man to reason and write against a wicked act of parlia- 
ment, or ungodly council, which the lord chancellor the 
day before denied me. The other was, to prove that pros- 
perity was not always a token of God's love. 

And this I purpose to speak of, because the lord chan- 
cellor boasted of himself, that he was delivered forth of 
prison, as it were by miracle, and preserved of God, to 
restore true religion, and to punish me and such others, 
whom he termed heretics. Concerning these two points, 
in this matter I pur|)osed to have proceeded thus. It is 
not unknown to you that king Henry the eighth, in his 

314 



Further Arguments, 23 

time, made his daughter, the queen that now is, a bastard; 
he abolished the authority of the bishop of Rome ; he pulled 
down abbeys : and all this he did by the consent of par- 
liament. 

King Edward the sixth, in his time, made lawful the 
marriage of priests, turned the service into English, abo- 
lished the idolatrous mass, with all like superstitious trum- 
pery, set up the holy communion, and all by consent of 
parliament. 

The queen that now is, hath repealed the act that made 
her a bastard ; « hath brought in the bishop of Rome, and 
set him in his old authority ; begins to set up abbeys again ; 
hath made the marriage of priests unlawful ; hath turned 
the English service into Latin again ; hath set up the mass 
again, with like baggage, and pulled down the holy com- 
munion; and all this is done by consent of parliament. 

If the acts of parliament made in king Henry's time, 
and king Edward's, had their foundation upon God's word, 
whereupon all positive law ought to be grounded; then 
these which are established in the queen's time, being 
wholly contrary to the others, as they are not warranted 
by God's word, so are they wicked, and therefore to be 
both spoken and written against of all men, as well of pri- 
vate as of public persons. 

If your acts, my lord chancellor, which you have lately 
coined, (I call them yours, because you only bear the swing, 
and devise and decree what ye list, all other men are forced 
to follow,) be good, and according to God's word, then the 
former acts were naught, which ye seemed to say, in utter- 
ly taking them away, and setting up the contrary. If the 
former were naught, why then did ye consent unto them, 
and confirm them to be good by your voluntary and advised 
writing, as it appears, and will do to the world's end, in 
your book, De vera obedientia, where you prove the queen 
a bastard, and the bishop of Rome to be an usurper, and to 
have no authority in the realm of England. 

Ye must needs confess, that the most part of your acts of 
parliament, in these latter days, have been according to the 
fantasies of a few. King Henry, in his time, established 
by parliament, in a manner, what he listed, and many things 
that might well have been amended. 

In king Edward's days, the dukes of Somerset and 
Northumberland bare a great stroke in things, and did 
not all things sincerely. Even so, since the queen, that 

315 



24 Rogers, 

now is, came to the government of the realm, all things 
are ordered by your device and head, and the whole par- 
liament-house is led as you list; by reason whereof they 
are compelled to consent to things both contrary to God's 
manifest word, and also contrary to their own consciences, 
so great is your cruelty. 

For to bring your wicked purposes to pass, and to esta- 
blish your antichristian kingdom, which, I trust the Lord 
with the breath of his mouth will speedily blow over, you 
have called three parliaments in one year and a half, that, 
what you could not compass by subtle persuasion, you 
might bring to pass by tyrannical threatening. For if you 
had not used cruel force in your doings, you had never 
brought to pass such things as this day you have, to the 
utter defacing and abolishing of God's true religion, and 
to the casting away and destruction of your natm'al coun- 
try, so much as in you lieth. 

And as it is most true that acts of parliament have, in 
these latter days, been ruled by^ the fantasies of a few, and 
the ivhole parliament-house, contrary to their minds, was 
compelled to consent to such things as a few have con- 
ceived; so it must needs be granted that the papists at all 
times were most ready to apply themselves to the present 
world; and, like men-pleasers, to follow the fantasies of 
such as were in authority, and turn with the state, which- 
soever way it turned. Yea, if the state should change ten 
times in a year, they would be ever- ready at hand to change 
with it, and to follow the cry, and rather utterly forsake 
God, and be of no religion, than that they would forego 
lust and living, for God or religion. 

King Henry, by parliament, according to God's word, 
put down tlie pope; the clergy consented, and all nien 
openly, by oath, refused his usurped supremacy, knowing, 
by God's word, Christ to be head of tlie church, and every 
king in his realm to liave, under and next unto Christ, the 
chief sovereignty. ^ 

King Edward, also, by parliament, according to God's 
word, set the marriage ol' priests at liberty, abolished the 
popish and idolatrous . mass, changed the I^Uin service, 
and set up the holy communion; the whole clergy .con- 
sented hereunto; many of them set it forth by their 
preaching, and all they by practising confirmed the same. 

Notwithstanding, now, when the state is altered, and 
the laws changed, the papistical clergy, with other like 

316 



Further Arguments. 25 

worldlings, as men neither fearing God, nor flying worldly- 
shame, neither yet regarding their consciences, oaths, or 
honesty, lilve wavering weather-cocks, turn round about, 
and putting on harlots' foreheads, sing a new song, and 
cry with an impudent mouth, Come again, come again to 
the catholic church — -meaning the antichristian church of 
Rome, which is the synagogue of Satan, and the very 
sink of all superstition, heresy, and idolatry. 

Of what force, I pray you, may a man think these par- 
liaments to be, which scarcely can stand a year in strength? 
or what credit is to be given to these law-makers, who are 
not ashamed to establish contrary laws, and to condemn 
that for e\dl, which before, (the thing itself and the circum- 
stances remaining all one,) they affirmed and decreed to be 
good? Truly ye are so ready, contrary to all right, to 
change and turn for the pleasure of man, that at length, I 
fear, God will use you like changelings, and both turn you 
forth of his kingdom, and out of your own country. 

Ye charge the gospel preachers with the undoing of this 
realm ; nay, it is the turning papists, which have not only 
set to sale their country like traitors, but also troubled the 
simple people, so that they cannot tell what they may be- 
lieve. For that which they affirmed and preached to be 
true doctrine in king Edward's days, now they cry against 
it, as if it were most abominable heresy. This fault I trust 
shall never find at our hands. 

Therefore, to conclude that which I proposed, forasmuch 
as the acts of parliament of these latter times are one con- 
trary to another, and those which ye now have established 
in your time, are contrary to God's most manifest word ; as 
is the usurped supremacy of the bishop of Rome, the 
idolatrous mass, the Latin service, the prohibiting of law- 
ful marriage, (which St. Paul calleth the doctrine of devils,) 
with many such others : I say, it is not only lawful for any 
private man, who brings God's word for himi, and the au- 
thority of the primitive church, to speak and write against 
such unlawful laws, but it is his duty, and he is bound in 
very conscience to do it. Which I have proved by divers 
examples before, and now will add but one other, which is 
written in the fifth of Acts, where it appeareth that the 
high priests, the elders, scribes, and pharisees, decreed in 
their council, and gave the same commandment to the 
apostles, that they should not preach in the name of Christ, 
as ye have also forbidden us; notwithstanding, when they 

ROGERS. 28 317 



26 Rogers. 

were charged therewithal, they answered, We ought more 
to obey God than man ; even so we may and do answer you, 
God is more to be obeyed than man ; and your wicked 
laws cannot so tongue-tie us, but we will speak the truth. 

The apostles were beaten for their boldness, and they 
rejoiced that they suffered for Christ's cause. Ye have also 
provided rods for us, and bloody whips, yet when ye have 
done that which God's hand and counsel hath determined 
tliat ye shall do, be it life or death, I trust that God will 
so assist us by his Holy Spirit and grace, that we shall 
patiently suffer it, and praise God for it; and whatsoever 
become of me and others, who now suffer for speaking 
and professing of the truth, yet be ye sure, that God's 
word will prevail and have the upper hand, when your 
bloody laws, and wicked decrees, for want of sure foun- 
dation, shall fall in the dust. And that which I have 
spoken of your acts of parliament, the same may be said 
of the general councils of these latter days, which have 
been within these five hundred years, where the antichrist 
of Rome, by reason of his usurped authority ruled the 
roast, and decreed such things as made for his gain, not 
regarding God's glory ; and therefore are they to be spoken, 
written, and cried out against, by all such as fear God and 
love his truth. And thus much I purposed to have said 
concerning the first point. 

Now touching the second point : That whereas my lord 
chancellor had, the day before, said his pleasure of them 
that ruled the realm while he was in prison: and also re- 
joiced, as though God had made this alteration even for 
his sake, and his catholic church, as he called it; and to 
declare, as it were by miracle, that we were before in a 
schism and heresy; and the realm was now brought unto 
an unity, and to a truth, and I cannot tell whereto — thereto 
was f fully purposed to have said, Secondly, My lord, 
whereas yesterday you so highly dispraised the government 
of them that ruled in innocent king P^dward's days, it may 
please your lordship to understand, that we poor preachers, 
whom you so evil allow, did most boldly and plainly rebuke 
their evil governance in many things, especially their covet- 
ousness, and negligence, and small regard to live after the 
gospel, as also their neglect to occasion others to live there- 
after, with more things than I can now rehearse. This all 
London can testify with us. 

318 



Further Armments, 27 



'S 



I would also have told him what I myself, for my part, 
did once at Paul's cross, concerning the misuse of abbeys, 
and other church goods; and I am assured right well, that 
never a papist of them all did ever so much therein as I 
did, I thank the Lord therefore. I was also, as it is well 
known, fain to answer therefore before all the council; 
and many of my brethren did the like, so that we, for the 
not rebuking of their faults, shall not answer before God, 
nor be blameworthy before men. Therefore, let the gen- 
tlemen and courtiers themselves, and all the citizens of 
London, testify what we did. 

But, my lord, you could not abide them, for that which 
they did unto you, and for that they were of a contrary re- 
ligion unto you. Wherefore, in that you seem so infest* 
agamst them, it is neither any just nor public cause, but it 
is your own private hate, that makes you to report so evil 
of their governance. And you may now say what you list 
of them, when they are partly dead and gone, and partly 
by you put out of office. 

But what shall be said of you, when your fall shall fol- 
low, you then shall hear. And I must say my conscience 
to you— I fear me, you have, and will, with your govern- 
ance " bring England out of God's blessing into a warm 
sun." I pray God yo^i do not. 

I am an Englishman born, and, God knows, do naturally 
wish well to my country. And, my lord, I have often 
proved that the things which I have much feared before- 
hand should come to pass, have indeed followed. I pray 
God I may fail of my guessing in this behalf; but truly 
that will not be with expelling the true word of God out of 
the realm, and with the shedding of innocent blood. 

And, as touching your rejoicing, as though God had set 
you alofl to punish us by miracle, (for so you report and 
brag openly of yourself,) and to minister justice, if we will 
not receive your holy father's mercies, and thereby declare 
your church to be true and ours false — to that I answer 
thus: God's works are wonderful, and are not to be com- 
, prehended and perceived by man's wisdom, nor by the wit 
of the most wise and prudent. Yea, they are soonest de- 
ceived, and do most easily judge amiss of God's wonderful 
works, that are most worldly wise. God hath made all the 
wisdom of this world foolishness. (1 Cor. i.) He hath put 

* Angry, displeased. 

319 



28 Rogers, 

his beloved and dear heart into the hands of the enemies 
thereof. (Jer. xii.) This God doth, which all wise men 
account to be the most foolish aud unwise part that can be. 
Will the wise of the world, think ye, put their most dear 
friends and tenderly beloved children into their enemies' 
hands, to kill, slay, burn, &;c.? That is unto them a mad- 
ness above all madness. And yet God uses this order; and 
this is a high and singular wisdom in his sight, which the 
world takes to be the most extreme madness. 

Can the world show a cause why he suffered the great 
multitude of innocent children to be murdered by Herod of 
Ascalon, or why he put that most holy man John the Bap- 
tist into the hands of Herod his son to be beheaded, and 
that in prison, in secret without open judgment, most tyran- 
nously? Why he suffered his beloved apostle James to be 
beheaded of another Herod? (Acts xii.) Why he suffered 
his beloved seed of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to be four 
hundred years in thraldom and bondage, and under Pha- 
raoh? And all the stock of Judah and Benjamin, his be- 
loved children and church, to come under the power, sword, 
and tyranny of Nebuchadnezzar? No, verily; but his true 
catholic church knows divers causes thereof, which are 
now too long to rehearse, and which I would right gladly 
show, if I had time. 

But this I am right sure of; that it was not because that 
the aforesaid godly men were in heresies, and subject to false 
gods' services and idolatry, and that their adversaries were 
men of God, and beloved of God. The contrary was 
true; John Baptist was beloved of God, and Herod hated, 
and so of the rest: and John Baptist, the innocent children, 
James, the children of Israel in Egypt and Babylon, were 
the catholic memlx?rs and people of God. And their ad- 
versaries, into whose hands they were put and delivered, 
and that of God, by his good will and pleasure, were idola- 
ters, and the people of the devil; but they would be called 
the chief menil>ers of God, and rejoiced that they had the 
true God, and that it was now declared by miracle, that the 
Israelites had but a false god, and a false religion, seeing 
they were deliv(Ted into llie Babylonians' hands. And all 
tlie others (the Herods and Pharaoii I mean) plainly deter- 
mined, that if the men, whom they killed and handled evil, 
had been God's peopl(», God would never have suffered them 
to iiave come into tlieir hands, but rather have done the con- 



Further Arguments. 29 

trary, and have let John Baptist kill Herod, and the Israel- 
ites Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar. Even the like is now 
to be seen in us, and in our most cruel adversaries. 

They are not therefore the catholic church, because our 
merciful God hath at this present given our lives into their 
hands ; neither are we therefore heretics, because we suffer 
punishment at their hands, as the lord chancellor by his 
rejoicing seemeth to gather. The contrary is hereby to be 
gathered, that we are the members of the true catholic 
church, because we suffer for the same doctrine which John 
Baptist, James, the Israelites, yea, Christ himself, and the 
apostles did teach ; of whom none taught any thing of our 
adversaries' doctrine, namely, that the rotten antichristian 
head of Rome should be the head of Christ's church: but 
they have manifestly taught the contrary, especially Paul, 
in the second to the Thessalonians, John in the Revelation, 
Daniel xi., which thing, if I might have life and books, I 
would, by God's grace, so set forth that all the world should 
see it: and that our adversaries, with their antichristian 
head, are the members of the devil's church, as they un- 
doubtedly are. 

And in like case as the above-mentioned holy men, 
though they in their days were counted to be heretics, se- 
ditious, and disturbers of the whole world. For unto John 
Baptist it was said, (John i.) Wherefore baptizest thou, if 
thou be not Elias, nor that prophet, &c. As who should 
say, Thou hast no such authority to begin a new ceremony 
in the church. For we are in ordinary possession of the 
church, and of us thou hast received no such power: we 
abide by our circumcision. And the like could I declare 
of James, and of all the apostles and prophets, and of our 
Saviour Christ himself, who were all condemned as heretics 
and blasphemers of God, and disturbers of the whole world. 
Paul and Silas, (Acts xvi.) heard like words of the Philip- 
pians ; These men trouble our city, seeing they are Jews, 
and preach institutions which are not lawful for us to re- 
ceive, seeing we be Romans. And in Athens, the wise 
men of this world, and such as give their endeavour to 
wisdom, said of St. Paul, What will this prater, (as my lord 
chancellor said to me, Shall we suffer this fellow to prate? 
when I would fain have said that which I have here writ- 
ten,) trifler, news carrier or bringer, that telleth whatsoever 
men will have him for gain and advantage, that will for a 
piece of bread say what ye will have him, &:c.? And an- 

28* 321 



30 Rogers, 

other said in the same place, He seeTneth to be a preacher 
of new doctrines, &c. And, (Acts xxi.) the Jews said by 
Paul, laying hands on him, " Help, O ye Israelites, say 
they ; this is the man that teaches all men every where 
against the people (meaning the Jews) and the law of 
this place" (meaning Jerusalem;) and yet was never a 
word of this true. And (Acts xxii.) the same Jews said of 
Paul, Out of the earth with that man, or away with him. 
For it is not lawful for him to live, or he is not worthy to 
live. 

And how many more of these examples are there to be 
found in the Bible? Although, I say, these men were in 
their days taken for heretics of them that were then in au- 
thority, and of the great multitude of the world, yet it is now 
well known, yea, and very shortly after their deaths this 
was known, yea, and even in their lives also unto the true 
catholic church, that they were not only the chief and spe- 
cial members of the true catholic church, but also the 
founders and builders thereof, notwithstanding the sinister 
judgment that the wise and mighty men, and the great 
multitude of the world had of them, and in their con- 
sciences they were always assuredly certified of the same. 
Even the same shall the world find true in us, shortly 
after our deaths, as also there are at this hour, 4he Lord 
be thanked therefore, not a few that already know it, as we 
ourselves also are by God's, grace assuredly certified in our ' 
consciences, that we are not heretics, but members of the 
true catholic church; and that our adversaries, the bishops, 
and popish clergy, who will have that title, are the mem- 
bers of Satan's church, and their antichristian head of 
Rome with them. 

But here will they cry out, Lo! these men will be still 
like John Baptist, the apostles, and the prophets, &c. I 
answer, we make not ourselves like unto them, in the sin- 
gular virtues and gifts of (lod given unt(^ them, as of doing 
miracles, and of many otiier things. The similitude -and 
likeness of them and us consists not in all things, but only 
in this, that we are like them in doctrine, and in *i'" <"^T^ •- 
ing of persecution and infamy for the same. 

Tiiat we have preached their very doctrine, aiin nun'- 
other, we are able sufticiently to dechire by their writings; 
and by writing, for niy part, I have proftered to prove the 
same, as it is now often said. And for this cause we suffer 
the like reproach, shame, and rebuke of the world, and the 
322 



Further Arguments, 31 

like persecution, losing of our lives and goods, forsakinor, 
as our master Christ commands, father, mother, sister, bre- 
thren, wives, children, and all that there is, being assured 
of a joyful resurrection, and to be crowned in glory with 
them, according to the infallible promises made unto us in 
Christ our only and sufficient Mediator, Reconciler, Priest, 
and Sacrifice, who hath pleased the Father, and quieted 
and pacified his wrath against our sins, and made us with- 
out spot or wrinkle in his sight, by imputation; although 
w^e, of and in ourselves, are bespotted and blotted with 
many filthy sins, which if the great mercy granted in 
Christ did not put away, by not imputing them unto us, 
of his measureless unspeakable mercy and love to save us, 
they would have brought us to everlasting damnation, and 
death perpetual. 

Herein, and in no other, do we affirm ourselves to be like 
unto our head Christ and all his apostles, prophets, mar- 
tyrs, and saints. And herein ought all Christian men to 
be like them; and herein are all true Christian men and 
women to be like them, every one, according to the mea- 
sure of the faith that God hath dealt unto them, and to 
the diversity of the gifts of the Spirit given unto them. 
But let us now consider, that if it be God's good will and 
pleasure to give his own beloved heart, that is, his beloved 
church, and the members thereof, into the hands of their 
enemies, to chasten, try, and prove them, and to bring 
them to the true unfeigned acknowledging of their own 
natural stubbornness, disobedience towards God and his 
commandments, as touching the love of God and of their 
brethren or neighbours; and their natural inclination, rea- 
diness, and desire to love creatures, to seek their own 
lusts, pleasures, and things forbidden of God, to obtain a 
true and earnest repentance and sorrowfulness therefore, 
and to make them sigh and cry for the forgiveness of the 
same, and for the aid of the Spirit, daily to mortify and kill 
the said evil desires and lusts, yea, and their often falling 
unto gross outward sins, as did David, Peter, Magdalen, 
and others, to rise again also thereout with a mighty crying 
for mercy, with many other causes; let us also consider 
what He hereafter doth with the said enemies, into whose 
hands he hath given his tenderly beloved dearlings to be 
chastened and tried. 

Whereas he but chastens his dearlings, and crosses them 
for a small while, according to his good pleasure, as all 

323 



32 Rogers. 

fathers do with their children, (Hebrews xii.; Proverbs iii.) 
he utterly destroys, yea, and everlastingly condemns the 
unrepentant enemies. Let Herod tell me what he won 
by killing James, and persecuting Peter, and Christ's ten- 
der dearlings, and beloved spouse and wife, his church. 
Verily, God thought him not worthy to have death minis- 
tered unto him by men or angels, or any worthy crea- 
tures; but those small, and yet most vile vermin, lice and 
worms, must consume and kill his beastly, vile, and tyran- 
nous body! 

Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar, for all their pride and 
most mighty power, must at the length let God's dearlings 
go freely away out of their land, yea, out of their bands and 
tyranny. For when it could not be obtained at their hands, 
that God's congregation might have true mercy ministered 
unto them, but the counterfeit mercy of these our days, 
that is to say, extreme cruelty, and even the very and most 
horrible and cruel death, God arose and awoke out of his 
sleep, and destroyed those enemies of his flock with a. 
mighty hand and stretched-out arm. 

Pharaoh did with most great and intolerable labours and 
burdens, oppress and bring under the poor Israelites, and 
yet did the courtiers undoubtedly noise abroad that the 
king was merciful unto them, to suffer them to live in the 
land, and to set them to work, that they might get them 
their livings. If he should thrust them out of his land, 
whither should they go, like a sort of vagabonds and run- 
agates? This title and name of mercy would that tyrant 
have, and so did his flattering false courtiers spread his 
vain praise abroad. 

Have not we the like examples now-a-days? O that I 
had now time to write certain things pertaining to our 
Winchester's mercy! How merciiul he hath been to me 
and to my good brethren, I will not speak of; neither yet 
the duke of Sufli)lk's most innocent daughter, and to her 
as innocent huslj;md. For although their fatliers were 
faulty, yet had their youth and lack of experience deserved 
a pardon by all true and merciful men's judgments. O 
that I had time to paint out this mutter aright! but there 
are many alive that can do it much better, wlien I am dead. 
Pljaraoh had his plagues, and his most flourishing larJd 
was by counterfeit nif'rcy, which was indeed right crucltv 
and abominable tyranny, utterly destroyed. And think 
ye that bloody butcherly bishop of Winchester and his most 

324 



Further Arguments. 33 

bloody brethren shall escape? Or that England shall for 
their offences, and specially for the maintenance of their 
idolatry, and wilful following of them, not abide as great 
brunts'? Yes, undoubtedly. 

If God look not mercifully upon England, the seeds of 
utter destruction are sown in it already, by these hypocri- 
tical tyrants and antichristian prelates, popish papists, and 
double traitors to their natural country. And yet they speak 
of mercy, of blessing, of the catholic church, of unity, of 
power, and strengthening of the realm. This double dissi- 
mulation will show itself one day when the plague cometh, 
which will undoubtedly light upon those crown-shorn cap- 
tains, and that shortly, whatsoever the godly and the poor 
realm suffer in the mean while by God's good sufferance 
and will. 

Spite of Nebuchadnezzar's beard and maugre his heart, 
the captive, thrall, and miserable Jews must come home 
again, and have their city and temple builded up again by 
Zerubbabel, Ezra, Nehemiah, &c., and the whole kingdom 
of Babylon must go to ruin, and be taken of strangers, the 
Persians and the Modes. So shall the dispersed English 
flock of Christ be brought again into their former state, or 
to a be4ter, I trust in the Lord God, than it was in innocent 
king Edward's days, and our bloody Babylonical bishops 
and the whole crown-shorn company brought to utter 
shame, rebuke, ruin, decay, and destruction. For God 
cannot, and undoubtedly will not, suffer for ever their abo- 
minable lying, false doctrine, their hypocrisy, blood-thirst, 
whoredom, idleness, their pestilent life, pampered in all 
kinds of pleasure, their Thrasonical boasting pride, their 
malicious, envious, and poisoned stomachs, which they bear 
towards his poor and miserable Christians. 

Peter truly warns, that if judgment begins at the house 
of God, what shall be the end of them that believe not the 
gospel? If the righteous shall scarcely be saved, where 
shall the ungodly and sinful appear? Some shall have 
their punishment here in this world and in the world to 
come; and they that do escape in this world shall not 
escape everlasting damnation. — 

Afler that John Rogers, as ye have heard, had been 
long and straitly imprisoned, lodged in Newgate amongst 
thieves, often examined, and very uncharitably treated, and 
at length unjustly and most cruelly, by wicked Winchester, 

325 



34 Rogers. 

condemned; on the fourth of February, in the year of our 
Lord 1555, being Monday in the morning, he was warned 
suddenly, by the keeper's wife of Newgate, to prepare him- 
self to the fire; who then being sound asleep, scarce with 
much jogging could be awaked. At length being raised 
and waked, and bid to make haste, then said he, Jf it be so, 
I need not to tie my points; and so was had down, first to 
Bonner to be degraded. That done, he craved of Bonner 
but one petition. And Bonner asking what that should be: 
Nothing, said he, but that I might speak a few Words with 
my wife before my burning. But that could not be obtained 
of him. Then said he. You declare your charity what it 
is: and so he was brought into Smithfield by master Ches- 
ter and master Woodroof, then sheriffs of London, there 
to be burnt; where he showed most constant patience^ not 
using many words, for he could not be permitted ; but only 
exhorted the people constantly to remain in that faith and 
true doctrine, which he before had taught, and they h^id 
learned, and for the confirmation whereof, he was not only 
content patiently to suffer and bear all such bitterness and 
cruelty as had been showed him, but also most gladly to 
resign up his life, and to give his flesh to the consuming 
fire, for the testimony of the same. 

Briefly, and in few words to comprehend the whole order 
of his life, doings, and martyrdom; First, this godly master 
Rogers was committed to prison, as is above said, and there 
continued a year and a half In prison he was joyful, and 
earnest in all he went about. He wrote much; his exami- 
nations he penned with his own hand, which else had never 
come to light. Wherein is to be noted by the way a me- 
morable working of God's providence. Ye heard a little 
above, how master Rogers craved of Bonner, going to his 
burning, that he might speak a few words before with his 
wif(s which could not be granted. What these words were, 
which he had to say to his wife, it is for no man certainly 
to defme. 

Likc^ly it may be supposed that his purpose was, amongst 
other things, to signify unto her of the book written of his 
examinations and answers, which he had privily hid in a 
secret corner of the prison whore lie lay. But where man's 
power lacketh, see how (rod's providem^e workoth. For 
notwithstanding that during the time of his imprisonment, 
strait search there was to take away his letters and writings, 
yet after his death, his wife, and one of her sons, called 

326 



His Writings, 35 

Daniel, coming into the place where he lay, to seek for his 
books and writings, and now ready to go away, it chanced 
her son, beforenamed, casting his eye aside, to spy a black 
thing, for it had a black cover, belike because it should not 
be known, lying in a blind corner under a pair of stairs ; 
who, willing his mother to see what it was, found it to be the 
book written with his own hand, containing these his exami- 
nations and answers, with other matters above specified.* 

Furthermore, amongst other words and sayings, which 
may seem prophetically to be spoken by him, this also may 
be added, and is notoriously to be marked, that he spake, 
being in prison, to the printer of the present book, who then 
also was laid up for like cause of religion:! Thou, said 
he, shalt live to see the alteration of this religion, and the 
gospel freely preached again; and therefore have me com- 
mended to my brethren, as well in exile as others, and bid 
them to be circumspect in displacing the papists, and put- 
ting good ministers into churches, or else their end will be 
worse than ours. And for lack of good ministers to furnish 
churches, his device was, master Hooper also agreeing to 

* Daniel Rogers was about thirteen when his father was burned; 
Strype relates tliat he afterwards studied at Wittemberg under Me- 
lancthon, and at Oxford. In queen Elizabeth's reign he was employ- 
ed as an agent among the protestants on the continent, and made 
many important communications to. secretary Cecil. Wood speaks 
of him as the most accomplished gentleman of his time, a very good 
man and excellently learned. Others, however, consider this Daniel 
Rogers not to have been the son of the martyr, but of another pro- 
testant of the same name. 

t John Day, who may be called the printer of the English refor- 
mation. In the reign of Edward VI. he printed many writings of 

.the Reformers. During queen Mary's reign he was imprisoned for 
the truth, and though he was released he almost wholly refrained 
from pursuing his business. On the accession of queen Elizabeth 
he resumed his trade, and many of the most valuable works of the 
reformers were set forth at his expense and risk. Among these par- 
ticularly may be enumerated those of Becon, Tindal, Frith, &c., but 
especially that invaluable work, " The Acts and Monuments of the 
Church." This work occupied Fox and several assistants eleven 
years; it was warmly encouraged by bishop Grindal, but certainly 
Day was mainly instrumental in its completion. The Acts and 
Monuments, or, as it is more commonly called, " Fox's Martyrs," is 
too well known to render any account of it necessary in this place. 
Day was opposed by many of his trade, " who hindered what they 
could the sale of his books;" but by the assistance of archbishop 
Parker he was enabled to open a shop in St. Paul's church-yard, and 
thus many of the valuable writings now reprinted in "The British 

. Reformers" were widely circulated. 

327 



36 Roger's, 

the same, that for every ten churches some one good and 
learned superintendent should be appointed, who should 
have under him faithful readers, such as might well be 
got, so that popish priests should be clean put out, and the 
bishop once a year to oversee the profiting of the parishes ; 
and if the minister did not his duty, as well in profiting 
himself in his book, and his parishioners in good instruc- 
tions, so that they might be trained by little and little to give 
a reckoning how they profited, then he to be expelled, and 
another to be put in his place; and the bishop to do the 
like with the superintendent. This was his counsel and 
request ; showing moreover, and protesting in his commen- 
dations to his brethren by the printer aforesaid, that if they 
would not so do, their end he said, would be worse than 
theirs. 

. Over and besides divers other things touching master 
Rogers, this is not to be forgotten, how in the days of king 
Edward the sixth there was a controversy among the bish- 
ops and clergy, about wearing of priests' caps, and other 
attire belonging to that order. Master Rogers being one 
of that number who never went otherwise than in a round 
cap, during all the time of king Edward, affirming that he 
would not agree to that decrement of uniformity, but upon 
this condition, that if they would needs have such an uni- 
formity of wearing the cap, tippet, &c., then it should also 
be decreed withal, that the papists, for a difference between 
them and others, should be constrained to wear upon their 
sleeves a chalice with a host upon it. W]M3reunto if they 
would consent, he would agree to the other, otherwise he 
would not, he said, consent to the setting forth of the same, 
nor ever wear the cap, as indeed he never did. 

To proceed now further in describing the doings of this 
man, during the time while he remained prisoner in New- 
gate, he was to the prisoners l)encficial and liberal, for 
whom he had thus devised, that he with his fellows should 
have but one meal a day, they paying notwithstanding for 
the charges of the whole; the other meal should be given 
to them that lacked on the other side of the prison. But 
Alexander their kce|)er, a strait man, and a right Alexan- 
der, a coppersmith indeed, of whose doings more shall be 
said, God willing, hen^aller, would in no case suffer that. 
The Sunday before he suffered, he drank to master Hooper, 
being then underneath him, and bade them commend him 
unto him, and tell him, there was never little fellow belter 
328 



His Sufferings and Death, 37 

would stick to a man than he would stick to him, presup- 
posing they should be burnt together, although it happened 
otherwise ; for master Rogers w^as burnt alone. And thus 
much briefly concerning the life and such acts of master 
Rogers, as I thought worthy noting. 

Now when the time came, that he, being delivered to the 
sheriffs, should be brought out of Newgate to Smithfield, 
the place of his execution, first came to him master Wood- 
roof, one of the sheriffs, and calling master Rogers unto 
him, asked him if he would revoke his abominable doctrine 
and his evil opinions of the sacrament of the altar. Master 
Rogers answered and said. That which I have preached I 
will seal with my blood. Then, quoth master Woodroof, 
thou art a heretic. — That shall be known, quoth Rogers, 
at the day of judgment. — Well, quoth master Woodroof, I 
will never pray for thee.— But I will pray for you, quoth 
master Rogers ; and so he was brought the same day, which 
was Monday the fourth of February, by the sheriffs towards 
Smithfield, saying the fifty-first psalm by the way, all the 
people wonderfully rejoicing at his constancy, with great 
praises and thanks to God for the same: and there in the 
presence of master Rochester, comptroller of the queen's 
household, sir Richard Southwell,* both the sheriffs, and 
a wonderful number of people, he was burnt into ashes, 
. washing his hands in the flame as he was in burning. 

A little before his burning at the stake, his pardon was 
brought if he would have recanted: but he utterly refused 
it. He was the first martyr of all the blessed company 
that suffered in queen Mary's time ; he gave the first adven- 
ture upon the fire. 

His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten able 
to go, and one sucking on her breast, met him by the way 
as he went toward Smithfield. This sorrowful sight of his 
own flesh and blood, dear as they were to him, could yet 
.nothing move him, but that he constantly and cheerfully 
took his death with wonderful patience, in the defence and 
cause of Christ's gospel. _ 

In addition to his biblical labours, Rogers translated some 
homilies and other pieces of Melancthon. Tanner also 
mentions a volume of sermons and lectures upon the gos- 
pel of St. John, with a few other pieces. 

* He was at first inclined to favour the Reformation, but after- 
wards a persecutor. 

ROGERS. 29 329 



THE HISTORY AND MARTYRDOM 



M. LAWEENCE SAUNDERS. 

Lawrence Saunders was the son of respectable 
parents. He was educated at Eton, and afterwards was a 
scholar at King's College, Cambridge, for three years, 
when his mother apprenticed him to a merchant named 
sir William Chester. Fox relates, " Thus by the mind of 
his friends, Lawrence should needs have been a merchant : 
but almighty God, who hath his secret working in all 
things, saw better for his servant, as it fell out in the end; 
for although Saunders was bound by fast indenture to play 
the merchant, yet the Lord so wrought inwardly in his 
heart, that he could find no liking in that vocation, so that 
when his other fellows were busily occupied, he would 
secretly withdraw himself into some private corner, and 
there fall into his solitary lamentations, as one not liking 
that trade and manner of life." 

Fox proceeds to state, that " His master being a good 
man, and hearing his apprentice thus in his secret prayers 
inwardly to mourn by himself," inquired into the cause of 
Saunders's troubles, and perceiving his desire for more 
serious pursuits, gave up his indentures ; he then returned 
to Cambridge, where he applied himself earnestly to the 
study of the holy Scripture, to fit himself for the office of a 
preacher, becoming master of the Hebrew as well as of the 
Latin and Greek. 

Fox says, '' In study he was diligent and painful, in 
godly life he declared the fruits of a well exercised con- 
science; he prayed often, and with great fervour, and in 
his prayers, as also at other times, he had his part of spirit- 
'. ual exercises, which his hearty sighing to God declared : 
in which, when any special assault did come, by prayer he 
felt present relief; then was his company marvellous com- 
fortable, for as his exercises were special teaching, so in 
the end they proved singular consolations, wherein he 
' became so expert, that within short space he was able to 
comfort others which were in any afftiction, by the conso- 
lation wherewith the Lord did comfort him." 

Saunders was ordained in the beginning of king Ed- 
ward's reign, and preached successively at Fotheringay, 

29* 333 



42 Saunders, 

Litchfield, and Church Langton in Leicestershire. He 
was afterwards appointed to Allhallows, Bread Street, just 
before queen Mary's accession to the throne, and went into 
the country to resign his former living ; but " seeing the 
dreadful days at hand," he preached with diligence at both 
these benefices, seeing he could resign neither of thera 
but into the hands of a papist." — Thus passed he to and 
fro in preaching, until the proclamation was put forth to 
the contrary, and he was by force prevented from continu- 
ing his office in the country. He then returned to his flock 
in London, and on his way, October 14, 1553, he was over- 
taken by sir John Mordaunt, one of the queen's council, who 
advised him to forsake his cure. Saunders replied, " How 
shall I then be discharged before God, if any be sick and 
desire consolation, if any want good counsel and need in- 
struction, or if any should fall into error and receive false 
doctrine?" He offered, however to submit to lawful autho- 
rity, and to obey if sir John forbad him, and had power to 
do so. The knight replied that he would not forbid, but 
only advised him to forbear, and informed Bonner of SaujQ- 
ders's intention to preach on the morrow. He preached :s 
the morning, earnestly warning the people against the coi 
ruptions of popery from 2 Cor. xi. 2 — 4, and was ready to 
give another exhortation in the aflernoon, when an officer 
of the bishop's interrupted him, and took him before 
Bonner. Here he was accused of treason, heresy, and 
sedition, and commanded to write what he believed of 
transubstanliation. At that time it was lawful to do so, 
but Saunders, when complying with Bonner's command, 
told him he knew it was intended to be brought againsj; 
him afterwards, which in fact was Bonner's intention, and 
he so made use of it. Saunders was then sent to Gardiner, 
who treated him with much roughness, and committed him 
to prison. 

Saunders was kept a prisoner in the Marshalsea for fif- 
teen months, during which time he was occupied much as 
liis fellow-martyrs, in writing letters, and conferring, both 
with friends and adversaries, as occasion offered. Full 
power to proceed against the protestants as heretics having 
then been given, he was brought before Giardiner and his 
companions; afler several examinations he was condemned, 
and sent to the compter in Bread Street. The account of 
his last liours is best given in the words of Fox. 

The fourth day of February, 1555, the bishop of Lon- 

334 



Life. 43 

don came to the prison, where he was to degrade him, 
which when he had done, Lawrence Saunders said to him, 
" I thank God I am none of your church." 

The day following, in the morning, the sheriff of Lon- 
don delivered him to certain of the queen's guard, who 
were appointed to carry him to the city of Coventry, there 
to be burned. The first night they came to St. Alban's, 
where master Grimoald, a man who had more store of 
good gifls than of great constancy, spoke with him. 

After master Saunders had given him a lesson proper 
for his lightness, he took a cup in his hand, and asked 
him if he would pledge him of that cup of which he would 
begin to him. Grimoald, by his shrugging and shrinking 
showing what he was, said, " Of that cup which is in your 
hand I will pledge you; but of that other which you 
mean, I will not promise you." — " Well," said master 
Saunders, " my dear Lord Jesus Christ has begun to me 
of a mor^ bitter cup than mine shall be, and shall I not 
pledge my most sweet Saviour? Yes, I hope." 

After they were come to Coventry, the same night a 
poor shoemaker, who was wont to serve him with shoes, 
came to him after his manner, and said, *' O my good 
master, God strengthen and comfort you." — " Gramercy, 
good shoemaker," replied master Saunders, " and I pray 
thee to pray for me, for I am the unmeetest man for this 
high office, that ever w^as appointed to it ; but my gracious 
God and dear Father is able to make me stronsr enough." 
That same night he was put into the common gaol among 
other prisoners, where he slept little, but spent the night in 
prayer and instructing of others. 

The next day, which was the eighth of February, he 
was led to the place of execution in the park, without the 
city, going in an old gown and a shirt, bare-footed, and 
oft-times fell flat on the ground, and prayed. When he 
was come nigh to the place, the officer appointed to see 
the execution done, said to master Saunders that he was 
one of them which marred the queen's realm with false doc- 
trine and heresy, " wherefore thou hast deserved death, but 
yet, if thou wilt revoke thine heresies, the queen hath par- 
doned thee; if not, yonder fire is prepared for thee." 

To whom master Saunders answered, "It is not I, nor 
my fellow-preachers of God's truth, that have hurt the 
queen's realm, but it is yourself, and such as you are, who 
have always resisted God's holy word ; it is you who have 

335 



44 Saunders. 

and do mar the queen's realm. I hold no heresies; but the 
doctrine of God, the blessed gospel of Christ, that hold I, 
that believe I, that have I taught, and that will I never 
revoke." With that the tormentor cried " Away with him." 
And away from him went Master Saunders with a joyful 
courage towards the fire. He fell to the ground and pray- 
ed ; he rose up again, and took the stake to which he should 
be chained, in his arms, and kissed it, saying, " Welcome 
the cross of Christ; welcome everlasting life;" and being 
fastened to the stake, and fire put to him, full sweetly he 
slept in the Lord. 

And thus ye have the history of Lawrence Saunders, 
whom I might well compare to St. Lawrence, or any other 
of the old martyrs of Christ's church, both for the fervent 
zeal of the truth and gospel of Christ, and the most con- 
stant patience in his sufferings, as also for the cruel tor- 
ments that he in -his patient body did sustain in the flame 
of fire: for so his cruel enemies handled him, that they 
burned him with green wood, and other smothering rather 
than burning, fuel, which put him to much more pain; 
but the grace and most plentiful consolation of Christ, 
which never forsaketh his servants, and gave strength to 
St. Lawrence, gave also patience to this Lawrence, above 
all that his torments could work against him ; which well 
appeared by his quiet standing, and sweet sleeping in the 
fire, as is above declared. 

Dr. Pendleton and M. Saunders meeting together in the 
beginning of queen Mary's reign, and speaking of the per- 
secution which was likely to ensue, about which Saunders 
showed much weakness and many fears, Pendleton said to 
him — " What, man ! There is much more cause for me to 
fear than for thee, forasmuch as I have a big and fat body; 
yet will I sec the utmost drop of this grease of mine melted 
away, and the last gobbet of this flesh of mine consumed 
to ashes, before I will forsake Jesus Christ and his truth 
which J have professed." Yet not long afler, when the 
hour of trial. came, poor, feeble, faint-hearted Saunders, by 
the power and goodness of God, sealed the truth with his 
blood; while proud Pendleton playeil the apostate, and 
turned papist. 

Saunders was an active and faithful preacher of the 
gospel. Several of his letters have been preserved by 
Covcrdale and Fox. They will interest and edify the 
Christian reader. 

336 



THE HISTORY 

OF 

DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR.* 

From the Acts and Monuments of John Fox. 

The town of Hadley was one of the first that received 
the word of God in all England, at the preaching of mas- 
ter Thomas Bilney ; by whose industry the gospel of Christ 
had such gracious success, and took such root there, that 
a great number in that parish became exceedingly well 
learned in the Holy Scriptures, as well women as men ; so 
that a man might have found many among them that had 
often read the whole Bible through, and who could have 
said a great part of St. Paul's epistles by heart, and very 
well and readily have given a godly learned sentence in 
any matter of controversy. Their children and servants 
were also brought up and trained so diligently in the right 
knowledge of God's word, that the whole town seemed 
rather a university of the learned, than a town of cloth- 
making or labouring people. And what most is to be com- 
mended, they were for the more part faithful followers of 
God's word in their living. 

In this town Dr. Rowland Taylor, doctor in both the 
civil and canon laws, and a right perfect divine, was 
parson. Who at his first entering into his benefice did 

* Strype, speaking of Dr. Taylor, says, " He was one of the chap- 
lains of archbishop Cranmer, and an extraordinary man, both for his 
learning, as well as his bold and brave profession of Christ's religion, 
even to the fiery trial. He had read over, which was rare in those 
days, all Augustine's works, Cyprian, Gregory Nazianzen, Eusebius, 
Origen, and divers other fathers. He professed the civil law, and had 
read over the canon law also. He was much employed in ecclesi- 
astical affairs in the reign of Edward the sixth." Dr. Taylor was a 
native of Rothbury, in Northumberland; he was of the University 
of Cambridge, where the conversation of Dr. Turner, and the preach- 
ing of Latimer, proved to be the means of liis conversion. Tlie nar- 
rative of his sufferings, which is here faithfully reprinted, is one of 
the most affecting and interesting pieces connected with the history 
of the British Reformation. 
872 



His Character. 81 

not, as the common sort of beneficed men do, let out his 
benefice to a farmer, who should gather up the profits, and 
set in an ignorant unlearned priest to serve the cure, and 
so that they may have the fleece, little or nothing care for 
feeding the flock : but, contrarily, he forsook the archbishop 
of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, with whom he before 
was in household, and made his personal abode and dwell- 
ing in Hadley among the people committed to his charge. 
Where he as a good shepherd, abiding and dwelling 
among his sheep, gave himself wholly to the study of holy 
Scriptures, most faithfully endeavouring himself to fulfil 
that charge w^hich the Lord gave unto Peter, saying, 
Peter, lovest thou me? feed my lambs, feed my sheep, feed 
my sheep. This love of Christ so wrought in him, that no 
Sunday nor holy day passed, nor other time when he might 
get the people together, but he preached to them the word 
of God, the doctrine of their salvation. 

Not only was his word a preaching unto them, but all 
his life and conversation was an example of unfeigned 
Christian life and true holiness. He was void of all pride, 
humble and meek as any child ; so that none were so 
poor, but they might resort unto him boldly, as unto their 
father, neither was his lowliness childish or fearful, but as 
occasion, time, and place required, he would be stout in 
rebuking the sinful and evil doers, so that none was so 
rich but he would tell him plainly his fault, with such 
earnest and grave rebukes as became a good curate and 
pastor. He was a man very mild, void of all rancour, 
grudge, or evil will, ready to do good to all men, readily 
forgiving his enemies, and never sought to do evil to any. 

To the poor that were blind, lame, sick, bedrid, or that 
had many children, he was a very father, a careful patron, 
and diligent provider, insomuch that he caused the pa- 
rishioners to make a general provision for them;* and he 
himself, besides the continual relief that they always found 
at his house, gave an honest portion yearly to the common 
alms box. His wife also was an honest, discreet, and 
sober matron, and his children well nurtured, brought up 
in the fear of God and good learnmg. 

To conclude, he was a right and lively image or pattern 

of all those virtuous qualities described by St. Paul in a 

true bishop; good salt of the earth, savourily biting the 

corrupt manners of evil men ; a light in God's house set 

* The poor laws had not then been enacted. 

373 



82 Taylor. 

upon a candlestick for all good men to imitate and follow. 
Thus continued this good shepherd among his flock, gov- 
erning and leading them through the wilderness of this 
wicked world, all the days of the most innocent and holy- 
king of blessed memory, Edward the sixth. But after it 
pleased God to take king Edward from this vale of misery 
unto his most blessed rest, the papists, who ever sembled 
and dissembled, both with king Henry the eighth, and with 
king Edward his son, now seeing the time convenient 
for their purpose, uttered their false hypocrisy, openly re- 
fusing all the good reformation made by the said two 
kings ; and contrary to that which they had in these two 
kings' days preached, taught, written, and sworn, they 
violently overthrew the true doctrine of the gospel, and 
persecuted with sword and fire all those that would not 
agree to receive again the Roman bishop as supreme head 
of the universal church, and allow all the errors, supersti- 
tions, and idolatries, that before by God's word were dis- 
proved and justly condemned, as though now they were good 
doctrine, virtuous, and true religion. 

In the beginning of this rage of antichrist, a certain petty 
gentleman, after the sort of a lawyer, called Foster, being 
a steward and keeper of courts, a man of no great skill, 
but a bitter persecutor in those days, with one John Clerk, 
of Hadley, which Foster had ever been a secret favourer 
of all Romish idolatry, conspired with the said Clerk to 
bring in the pope and his maumetry* again into Hadley 
church. For as yet Dr. Taylor, as a good shepherd, had 
retained and kept in his church the godly church service 
and reformation made by king Edward, and most faithfully 
and earnestly preached against the popish corruptions, 
which had infected the whole country round about. 

Therefore the aforesaid Foster and Clerk hired one John 
Averth, parson of Aldam, a very money mammonist,f a 
blind leader of the blind, a popish idolater, and an open 
adulterer and whoremonger, a very fit minister for their 
purpose, to come to Hadley, and there to begin again the 
popish mass. To this purpose they builded up the altar 
with all haste possible, intending to bring in their mass 
again about Palm Monday. But this their device took no 
effect; for in the night the altar was beaten down. Where- 
fore tliey built it up again the second time, and laid dili- 
gent watch, lest any should again break it down. 
* Idolatry. t A covetous man. 

374 



Opposes the Mass. 83 

On the day following came Foster and John Clerk, 
bringing with them their popish sacrificer, who brought 
with him all his implements and garments, to play his 
-popish pageant, whom they and their men guarded with 
swords and bucklers, lest any man should disturb him in 
his missal sacrifice. 

When Dr. Taylor, who, according to his custom, sat at 
his book studying the word of God, heard the bells ring, 
he arose and went into the church, supposing that some- 
thing had been there to be done, according to his pastoral 
office. Coming to the church, he found the church doors 
shut and fast barred, saving the chancel door, which was 
only latched. Where he entering in, and coming into the 
chancel, saw a popish sacrificer in his robes, with a broad 
new shaven crown, ready to begin his popish sacrifice, 
beset round about with drawn swords and bucklers, lest 
any man should approach to disturb him. 

Then said Dr. Taylor, Thou devil, who made thee so 
bold to enter into this church of Christ, to profane and 
defile it with this abominable idolatry ? With that started 
up Foster, and with an ireful and furious countenance said 
to Dr. Taylor, Thou traitor, what doest thou here, to 
hinder and disturb the queen's proceedings ? Dr. Taylor 
answered, I am no traitor, but I am the shepherd that 
God my Lord Christ hath appointed to feed this his flock : 
wherefore I have good authority to be here: and I com- 
mand thee, thou popish wolf, in the name of God, to avoid 
hence, and not to presume here to poison Christ's flock 
with such popish idolatry. 

Then said Foster, Wilt thou, traitorly heretic, make a 
commotion, and resist violently the queen's proceedings? 

Dr. Taylor answered: I make no commotion, but it is 
you, papists, that make commotions and tumults. I resist 
only with God's word against your popish idolatries, which 
are against God's word, the queen's honour, and tend to 
the utter subversion of this realm of England. And fur- 
ther, thou doest against the canon law, which commands 
that no mass be said but at a consecrate altar. 

When the parson of Aldam heard that, he began to shrink 
back, and would have left his saying of mass: then started 
up John Clerk, and said, M. Averth, be not afraid, you 
have a superaltar.* Go forth with your business, man, 

* A superaltar is a stone consecrated by the bishops, commonly 
of a foot long, which the papists carry instead of an altar when they 
say mass for money in gentlemen's houses. Fox, 375 



84 Taylor. 

Then Foster, with his armed men, took Dr. Taylor, and 
led him with strong hand out of the church, and the popish 
prelate proceeded in his Romish idolatry. Dr. Taylor's 
wife, who followed her husband into the church, when she 
saw her husband thus violently thrust out of his church, 
kneeled down and held up her hands, and with a loud 
voice said, I beseech God the righteous Judge to avenge 
this injury that this popish idolater this day doth to the 
blood of Christ. Then they thrust her out of the church 
also, and shut the doors, for they feared that the people 
would have rent their sacrificer in pieces. Notwithstand- 
ing, one or two threw in great stones at the windows, and 
missed very little the popish masser. 

Thus you see how without consent of the people, the 
popish mass was again set up, with battle array, with 
swords and bucklers, with violence and tyranny ; which 
practice the papists have ever yet used. As for reason, 
law, or Scripture, they have none on their part. Therefore 
they are the same that saith. The law of unrighteousness 
is our strength : come, let us oppress the righteous without 
any fear, &c. 

Within a day or two after, with all haste possible, this 
Foster and Clerk made a complaint of Dr. Taylor, by a 
letter written to Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, 
and lord chancellor. When the bishop heard this, he sent 
a letter missive to Dr. Taylor, commanding him within cer- 
tain days, to come and appear before him upon his allegi- 
ance, to answer such complaints as were made against him. 

When Dr. Taylor's friends heard of this, they were ex- 
ceeding sorry and grieved in mind ; foreseeing to what end 
the same matter would come, seeing also that all truth and 
justice were trodden under foot, and that falsehood with 
cruel tyranny were set aloft and ruled all the whole rout. 
His friends, I say, came to him, and earnestly counselled 
him to depart and fly, alleging and declaring unto him that 
he could neither be indifferently heard to speak his con- 
science and mind, nor yet look for justice or favour at the 
said chancellor's hands, who as it is well known, was most 
fierce and cruel ; but must needs, if he went up to him, wait 
for imprisonment and cruel death at his hands. 

Then said Dr. Taylor to his friends, Dear friends, I 
most heartily thank you that you have so tender a care 
over me. And although I know that there is neither 
justice nor truth to be looked for at my adversaries' hands, 

376 



His friends counsel him to flee. 85 

but rather imprisonment and cruel death ; yet know I my 
cause to be so good and righteous, and the truth so strong 
upon my side, that I will, by God's grace, go and appear 
before them, and to their beards resist their false doings. 

Then said his friends, M. Doctor, we think it not best sa 
to do. You have sufficiently done your duty, and testified 
the truth, both by your godly sermons, and also in resist- 
ing the parson of Aldam, with others, that came hither to 
bring in again the popish mass. And forasmuch as our 
Saviour Christ wilieth and biddeth us, that when they per- 
secute us in one city, we should flee into another; we 
think in fiying at this time ye should do best, keeping your- 
self against another time when the church shall have great 
need of such diligent teachers and godly pastors. 

Oh, said Dr. Taylor, what will ye have me to do? I 
am now old, and have already lived too long, to see these 
terrible and most wicked days. Do you fly, and do as 
your consciences lead you. I am fully determined with 
God's grace, to go to the bishop, and to his beard to tell 
him that he doeth naught. God shall well hereafler raise 
up teachers of his people, who shall with much more dili- 
gence and fruit teach them than I have done. For God 
will not forsake his church, though now for a time he trieth 
and ,correcteth us, and not without a just cause. As for 
me, I believe before God, I shall never be able to do God 
so good service, as I may do now ; nor shall I ever have 
so glorious a calling, as I now have, nor so great mercy 
of God proffered me, as is now at this present. For what 
Christian man would not gladly die against the pope and 
his adherents? I know that the papacy is the kingdom of 
antichrist, altogether full of lies, altogether full of falsehood, 
so that all their doctrine, even from Christ's cross be my 
speed,* and St. Nicholas, unto the end of their apocalypse, 
is nothing but idolatry, superstition, errors, hypocrisy, and 
lies. Wherefore I beseech you and all other my friends, 
to pray for me, and 1 doubt not but God will give me 
strength and his Holy Spirit, that all mine adversaries 
shall have shame of their doings. 

When his friends saw him so constant, and fully deter- 
mined to go, they with weeping eyes commended him 

* The horn-book or child's spelling alphabet. St. Nicholas was 
the patron saint of children ; his picture was sometimes prefixed to 
their books. The words here referred to by Dr. Taylor, were the 
usual invocation of children when commencing their learning. 
TAYLOR. 33 377 



86 Taylor. 

unto God ; and he within a day or two prepared himself to 
his journey, leaving his cure with a godly old priest, named 
sir Richard Yeoman, who afterwards, for God's truth, was 
burnt at Norwich.* There was also in Hadley one Alcock, 
a very godly man, well learned in the Holy Scriptures, who, 
after sir Richard Yeoman was driven away, used daily to read 
a chapter, and to say the English litany in Hadley church. 
But him they took up to London, and cast him in prison in 
Newgate: where after a year's imprisonment he died. 

But let us return to Dr. Taylor again, who being ac- 
companied with a servant of his own, named John Hull, 
took his journey towards London. By the way, this John 
Hull laboured to counsel and persuade him very earnestly 
to flee, and not to come to the bishop, and proffered himself 
to go with him to serve him ; and in all perils to venture his 
life for him and with him. But in no wise would Dr. 
Taylor consent or agree thereunto, but said. Oh! John, 
shall I give place to this thy counsel and worldly persua- 
sion, and leave my flock in this danger? Remember the 
good Shepherd, Christ, who not only fed his flock, but also 
died for his flock. Him must I follow, and with God's 
grace I will do so. Therefore, good John, pray for me, 
and if thou seest me weak at any time, comfort me, and dis- 
courage me not in this my godly enterprise and purpose. 

Thus they came up to London, and shortly after Dr. 
Taylor presented himself to the bishop of Winchester, Ste- 
phen Gardiner, then lord chancellor of England. 

For this hath been one great abuse in England these 
many years, that such offices as have been of most import- 
ance and weight, have commonly been committed to 
bishops and other spiritual men, whereby three mischiefs 
and inconveniences have happened in this realm, to the 
great dishonour of God, and utter neglecting of the flock 
of Christ: the which three are these. — First, They have 
had small leisure to attend to their pastoral cures, which 
thereby have been utterly neglected and left undone. Se- 
condly, It hath also puffed up many bishops and other 
spiritual persons into such haughtiness and pride, that they 
have thought no nobleman in the realm worthy to be their 

* The narrative of Yeoman's sufferings as given by Fox is very in- 
teresting. After travelling about as a pedlar for some time, he return- 
ed to Hadley, where he was concealed in a chamber in the guildhall 
more than a year. Being discovered at length he was condemned 
to the fire. 
378 



Gardiner rails at hinu 87 

equal and fellow. Thirdly, Where they by this means 
knew the very secrets of princes, they being in such high 
offices, have caused the same to be known in Rome, before 
the kings could accomplish and bring their intents to pass 
in England. By this means hath the papacy been so main- 
tained, and things ordered after their wills and pleasures, 
that much mischief hath happened in this realm and others, 
sometime to the destruction of princes, and sometime to the 
utter undoing of many commonwealths. 

Now when Gardiner saw Dr. Taylor, he, according to 
his common custom, reviled him, calling him knave, traitor, 
heretic, with many other villainous reproaches : all which 
Dr. Taylor heard patiently, and at the last said unto him : 
My lord, I am neither traitor nor heretic, but a true subject, 
and a faithful Christian man, and am come according to 
your commandment, to know what is the cause that your 
lordship hath sent for me. 

Then said the bishop. Art thou come, thou villain? How 
darest thou look me in the face for shame? Knowest thou 
not who I am? Yes, said Dr. Taylor, I know who you are. 
You are doctor Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and 
lord chancellor, and yet but a mortal man, I trow. But if 
I should be afraid of your lordly looks, why fear you not 
God, the Lord of us all? How dare you for shame look 
any Christian man in the face, seeing you have forsaken 
the truth, denied our Saviour Christ and his word, and done 
contrary to your own oath and writing? With what coun- 
tenance will you appear before the judgment seat of Christ, 
and answer to your oath made first unto king Henry the 
eighth, of famous memory, and afterward unto blessed king 
Edward the sixth, his son? 

The bishop answered. Tush, tush, that was Herod's oath, 
unlawful, and therefore worthy to be broken. I have done 
well in breaking it: and, I thank God, I am come home 
again to our mother, the catholic church of Rome, and so 
I would thou shouldest do. 

Dr. Taylor answered, Should I forsake the church of 
Christ, which is founded upon the true foundation of the 
apostles and prophets, to approve those lies, errors, super- 
stitions, and idolatries, which the popes and their company 
at this day so blasphemously do approve? Nay, God for- 
bid. Let the pope and his, return to our Saviour Christ 
and his word, and thrust out of the churches such abomi- 
nable idolatries as he maintaineth, and then will Christian 

379 



88 Taylor. 

men turn unto him. You wrote truly against him, and 
were sworn against him. 

I tell thee, said the bishop of Winchester, it was Herod's 
oath, unlawful, and therefore ought to be broken and not 
kept : our holy father the pope hath discharged me of it. . 

Then said Dr. Taylor, But you shall not so be dischar- 
ged before Christ, who doubtless will require it at your 
hands, as a lawful oath made to your liege and sovereign 
lord the king, from whose obedience no man can assoil 
you, neither the pope nor none of his. 

I see, quoth the bishop, thou art an arrogant knave, and 
a very fool. 

My lord, quoth Dr. Taylor, leave your unseemly railing 
at me, which is not seemly for such a one in authority, as 
you are. For I am a Christian man, and you know that he 
that saith to his brother, Racha, is in danger of a council, 
and he that saith. Thou fool, is in danger of hell fire. 

The bishop answered. Ye are false, and liars all of you. 
Nay, quoth Dr. Taylor, we are true men, and know that it 
is written. The mouth that lieth slayeth the soul. And 
again. Lord God thou shalt destroy all that speak lies. 
And therefore we abide by the truth of God's word, which 
you, contrary to your own consciences, deny and forsake. 

Thou art married, said the bishop. — Yea, said Dr. Tay- 
lor, that, I thank God, I am, and have had nine children, 
and all in lawful matrimony, and blessed be God that or- 
dained matrimony, and commanded that every man that 
hath not the gift of continency should marry a wife of his 
own, and not live in adultery or whoredom. 

Then said the bishop. Thou hast resisted the queen's 
proceedings, and wouldest not suffer the parson of Aldam, 
a very virtuous and devout priest, to say mass in Hadley. 
Dr. Taylor answered, My lord, I am parson of Hadley, and 
it is against all right, conscience, and laws, that any man 
shall come into my charge and presimie to infect the flock 
committed unto me, with venom of the popish idolatrous 
mass. 

With that the bishop waxed very angry, and said. Thou 
art a blasphemous heretic indeed, that blasphemest the 
blessed sacrament, (and he put off his cap,) and speakest 
against the holy mass, which is made a sacrifice for the 
quick and the dead. Dr. Taylor answered, Nay, I blas- 
plieme not tlie blessed sacram<^nt which Christ instituted, 
but I reverence it as a true Christian man ought to do, and 

380 



His belief respecting the Sacrament. 89 

confess that Christ ordained the holy communion in re- 
membrance of his death and passion, which when we keep 
according to his ordinance, we, through faith, eat the body 
of Christ, and drink his blood, giving thanks for our re- 
demption, and this is our sacrifice for the quick and the 
dead, to give God thanks for his merciful goodness showed 
to us, in that he gave his Son Christ unto the death for us. 

Thou sayest well, quoth the bishop. It is all that thou 
hast said, and more too; for it is a propitiatory sacrifice 
for the quick and the dead. Then answered Dr. Taylor, 
Christ gave himself to die for our redemption upon the 
cross, whose body there offered was the propitiatory sacri- 
fice, full, perfect, and sufficient unto salvation, for all them 
that believe in him. And this sacrifice our Saviour Christ 
offered in his own person, himself, once for all, neither can 
any priest any more offer him, nor do we need any more 
propitiatory sacrifice, and therefore I say with Chrysostom, 
and all the doctors. Our sacrifice is only memorative, in the 
remembrance of Christ's death and passion, a sacrifice of 
thanksgiving, and therefore the fathers called it Eucharis- 
tia ; and none other sacrifice hath the church of God. 

It is true, quoth the bishop, the sacrament is called Eu- 
charist, a thanksgiving, because we there give thanks for 
our redemption ; and it is also a sacrifice propitiatory for 
the quick and the dead, which thou shalt confess ere thou 
and I have done. Then the bishop called his men, and said. 
Have this fellow hence, and carry him to the King's Bench, 
and charge the keeper he be straitly kept. 

Then kneeled Dr. Taylor down, and held up both his 
hands, and said, Good Lord, I thank thee; and from the 
tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and all his detestable er- 
rors, idolatries, and abominations, good Lord deliver us: 
and God be praised for good king Edward. So they car- 
ried him to prison, to the King's Bench, where he lay pris- 
oner near two years. 

This is the sum of that first talk, as I saw it mentioned 
in a letter that Dr. Taylor wrote to a friend of his, thank- 
ing God for his grace, that he had confessed his truth, and 
was found worthy for truth to suffer prison and bonds, be- 
seeching his friends to pray for him, that he might perse- 
vere constant unto the end. 

Being in prison. Dr. Taylor spent all his time in prayer, 
reading the Holy Scriptures, and writing, and preaching, 

83* 381 



90 Taylor. 

and exhorting the prisoners and such as resorted to him, 
to repentance and amendment of life. 

Within a few days after, divers other learned and godly 
men, in sundry counties of England, were committed to 
prison for religion, so that almost all the prisons in Eng- 
land were become right Christian schools and churches; 
so that there was no greater comfort for Christian hearts, 
than to come to the prisons, to behold their virtuous con- 
versation, and to hear their prayers, preachings, most god- 
ly exhortations, and consolations.^ Now were placed in 
churches blind and ignorant massmongers with their Latin 
babblings and apish ceremonies; who like cruel wolves, 
spared not to murder all such as but once whispered against 
their popery. As for the godly preachers which were in 
king Edward's time, they were either fled the realm, or 
else, as the prophets in king Ahab's days, they were 
privily kept in corners. As for as many as the papists 
could lay hold on, they were sent unto prison, there as 
lambs waiting when the butchers would call them to the 
slaughter. 

When Dr. Taylor was come into the prison called the 
King's Bench, he found therein the virtuous and vigilant 
preacher of God's word, M. Bradford; who for his inno- 
cent and godly living, his devout and virtuous preaching, 
was worthily counted a miracle of our times, as even his 
adversaries must needs confess. Finding this man in pri- 
son, he began to exhort him to faith, strength, and patience, 
and to persevere constant unto the end. M. Bradford hear- 
ing this, thanked God that he had provided him such a 
comfortable prison-fellow, and so they both together lauded 
God, and continued in prayer, reading, and exhorting one 
the other. Insomuch that Dr. Taylor told his friends that 
came to visit him, that God had most graciously provided 

* Gcorgfe Marsh, the martyr, relates, that when imprisoned at Lan- 
caster, " They threatened and rebuked me for my preaching- to the 
people out of the prison, as they called it, and for my praying and 
reading so loud that tlie people in the streets might hear. The truth 
is, I, and my prison-fellow, Warburton, every day, kneeling on our 
knees, read morning and evening prayer, with the English litany 
every day twice, both before noon and after, with other prayers more ; 
and also read every day certain chapters of the Bible, commonly to- 
wards night. And we read all these tilings with so high and loud a 
voice, that the peoj)le without in the streets might hear us, and would 
oflcntimes, namely in the evenings, come and sit down in our sight 
under the windows, and hear us read, wherewith others being offend- 
ed, complained." Fox, 
3S2 



His Examination before the Bishops, 91 

for him, to send him to that prison where he found such an 
angel of God, to be in his company to comfort him. 

After Dr. Taylor had lain in prison awhile, he was cited 
to appear in the arches at Bow church to answer unto such 
matter as there should be objected against him. At the 
day appointed he was led thither, his keeper waiting upon 
him. Where, when he came, he stoutly and strongly de- 
fended his marriage, affirming by the Scriptures of God, 
by the doctors of the primitive church, by both laws civil 
and canon, that it is lawful for priests to marry, and that 
such as have not the gifl of continency, are bound on pain 
of damnation to marry. This did he so plainly prove, that 
the judge could give no sentence of divorce against him, 
but gave sentence he should be deprived of his benefice 
because he was married. 

You do me wrong then, said Dr. Taylor; and alleged 
many laws and constitutions for himself, but all prevailed 
not. For he was again carried into prison, and his livings 
taken away, and given to others. As for Hadley benefice, 
it was given or sold, I know not which, to one master 
Newall, whose great virtues were altogether unlike to Dr. 
Taylor his predecessor, as the poor parishioners full well 
have proved. 

After a year and three quarters, or thereabout, in which 
time the papists got certain old tyrannous lav/s, which were 
- put down by king Henry the eighth, and by king Edward, 
to be again revived by parliament ; so that now they might, 
ex officio, cite whom they would, upon their own suspicion, 
and charge them with what articles they pleased, and ex- 
cept they in all things agreed to their purpose, burn them; 
when these laws were once established, they sent for Dr. 
Taylor with certain other prisoners, who were again sum- 
moned before the chancellor and other commissioners, about 
the 2 2d of January, 1555. The purport and effect of which 
talk between them, because it is sufficiently described by 
himself in his own letter written to a friend of his, I have 
annexed as here follows. 

A letter of Dr, Taylor^ containing and reporting the talk 
had bettceen him and the lord chancellor and other 
commissioners, the 22d of January, 1555. 

Whereas you would have me write the talk between the 
king and queen's most honourable council and me on Tues- 
day, the 22d of January, this, so far as I remember, was 

383 



98 Taylor. 

the effect thereof. First my lord chancellor said, You 
among others are at this time sent for to enjoy the king's 
and the queen's majesty's favour and mercy, if you will 
now rise again with us from the fall which we generally 
have received in this realm, from which, God be praised, 
^e are now clearly delivered, miraculously. If you will 
not rise with us now, and receive mercy now offered, you 
shall have judgment according to your demerits. To this 
I answered, that so to rise should be the greatest fall that 
ever I could receive, for I should so fall from my dear 
Saviour Christ to antichrist. For I do believe that the 
religion set forth in king Edward's days, was according to 
the vein of the holy Scripture, which contains fully all the 
rules of our Christian religion, from which I do not intend 
to decline, so long as I live, by God's grace. 

Then master secretary Bourne said. Which of the reli- 
gions mean ye of king Edward's days? for you know there 
were divers books of religion set forth in his days. There 
was a religion set forth in a catechism by my lord of Can- 
terbury.* Do you mean that you will stick to that? 

I answered. My lord of Canterbury made a catechism to 
be translated into English ; which book was not of his own 
making, yet he set it forth in his own name, and truly that 
book for the time did much good. But there was after 
that set forth by the most innocent king Edward, for whom 
God be praised everlastingly, the whole church service, 
with great deliberation, and the advice of the best learned 
men of the realm, and authorized by the whole parliament, 
and received and published gladly by the whole realm, 
which book was never reformed but once, and yet by that 
one reformation it was so fully perfected, according to the 
rules of our religion in every behalf, that no Christian con- 
science could be offended with any thing therein contained ; 
1 mean of that book reformed. 

Then my lord chancellor said, Didst thou never read the 
book that I set forth of the sacrament? 

I answered that I had read it. 

Then he said, How likest thou that book? With that 
one of the council, whose name I know not, said. My lord, 
that is a good question; for I am sure, that book stoppeth 
all their mouths. Then said I, My lord, I think many things 
are far wide from the truth of God's word in that book. 

Then my lord said. Thou art a very varlet. To that 1 
* The catechism of 1548. Sec Cranmer's writings. 

384 



Examination before the Bishops, 93 

answered, That is as ill as Racha, or Thou fool. Then my 
lord said, Thou art an ignorant beetle-brow.* 

To that I answered, I have read over and over again the 
Holy Scriptures, and Augustine's works through, Cyprian, 
Eusebius, Origen, Gregory Nazianzen, with divers other 
books throughout; therefore I thank God I am not utterly 
ignorant. Besides these, my lord, I professed the civil law, 
as your lordship did, and I have read over the canon law 
also. 

Then my lord said, Thou readest all things with a cor- 
rupt judgment; touching my profession, it is divinity, in 
which I have written divers books. Then I said, my lord, 
you did write one book, De vera obedientiajf I would you 
had been constant in that; for indeed you never declared a 
good conscience that I heard of, but in that one book. 

Then my lord said. Tut, tut, tut, I wrote against Bucer 
in priests' marriages; but such books please not such 
wretches as thou art, who hast been married many years. 
To that I answered, I am married indeed, and I have had 
nine children in holy matrimony, I thank God. And this 
I am sure of, that your proceedings now at this present, 
in this realm, against priests' marriages, is the maintenance 
of the doctrine of devils, against natural law, civil law, 
canon law, general councils, canons of the apostles, an- 
cient doctors, and God's laws. 

Then spake my lord of Durham, saying, You have pro- 
fessed the civil law, as you say. Then you know that 
Justinian writes, that priests should at their taking of or- 
ders swear that they were never married; and to prove that 
he brings in the canons of the apostles. 

To that I answered, I did not remember any such law of 
Justinian. But I am sure that Justinian writes in Titulo 
de indicta viduitate, that if one would bequeath to his wife 
in his testament a legacy, under a condition that she should 
never marry again, and take an oath of her for accomplish- 
ing the same, yet she may marry again if he die, notwith- 
standing the aforesaid conditions and oath taken and made 
against marriage ; and an oath is another manner of obli- 
gation made to God, than is a papistical vow made to man. 
Moreover, in the pandects it is contained, that if a man 
manumits his handmaid under a condition that she shall 

* A person having- prominent eyebrows was called so. 
t A book written by Gardiner " Of true Obedience," in which he 
taught of the king's supremacy. Fox. 

385 



94 Taylor. 

never marry; yet she may marry, and her patron shall 
lose his power over her, for his adding of the unnatural and 
unlawful condition against matrimony. 

Then my lord chancellor said. Thou sayest that priests 
may be married by God's law. How provestthou that? 

I answered by the plain words and sentences of St. Paul, 
both to Timothy and to Titus, where he speaks most evi- 
dently of the marriage of priests, deacons, and bishops. 
And Chrysostom, writing upon the epistle to Timothy, saith. 
It is a heresy to say that a bishop may not be married. 

Then said my lord chancellor. Thou liest of Chrysostom. 
But thou doest, as all thy companions do, belie ever, with- 
out shame, both the Scriptures and the doctors. Didst 
thou not say, that by the canon law, priests may be mar- 
ried? which is most untrue, and the contrary is most true. 

I answered, We read in the decrees, that the four gene- 
ral councils, Nicene, Constantinopolitan, Ephesine, Chalce- 
don, have the same authority that the four evangelists have. 
And we read in the same decrees, which is one of the chief 
books of the canon law, that the council of Nice, by the 
means of one Paphnutius, did allow priests' and bishops' 
marriages. Therefore by the best part of the canon law, 
priests may be married. 

Then my lord chancellor said, Thou falsifiest the general 
council. For there is express mention in the said decree 
that priests who are married should be divorced from their 
wives. Then said I, If those words be there, as you say, 
then am I content to lose this great head of mine. Let the 
book be fetched. 

Then spake my lord of Durham, Though they be not 
there, yet they may be in the ecclesiastical history which 
Eusebius wrote, out of which the decree was taken. 

To that said I, It is not likely that the pope would leave 
out any such sentence, having such authority, and making 
so much for his purpose. Then my lord chancellor said, 
Gratian was but a patcher, and thou art glad to snatch up 
such a patch as makes for thy purpose. I answered. My 
lord, I cannot but marvel that you call one of the chief 
papists that ever was, but a patcher!* 

Then my lord chancellor said. Nay, I call thee a snatcher 
and a patcher: to make an end, wilt thou not return again 

* Gratian was a celebrated Benedictine monk of the twelfth cen- 
tury, to whose writings tlie popes were chiefly indebted for tlie high 
authority tlicy exercised in the following centuries. 

386 



On the Marriage of Priests, 96 

with us to the catholic church? And with that he rose. 
And I said, by God's grace, I will never depart from 
Christ's church. Then I required that I might have some 
of my friends to come to me in prison ; and my lord chan- 
cellor said, Thou shalt have judgment within this week. 
And so was I delivered again unto my keeper. My lord 
of Durham would that I should believe as my father and 
my mother did. I alleged Augustine, that we ought to 
prefer God's word before all men. 

And thus much was contained in the letter of Dr. Taylor 
for that matter. Besides this letter, moreover he directed 
another writing in Hke manner to another friend of his con- 
cerning the causes wherefore he was condemned.* 

A brief recapitulation out of Dr, Taylor^s causes afore- 
touched^ for the reader more evidently to see how the 
papists act against their oivn knotvledge in forbidding 
priests^ marriage. 

The pope's clergy forbidding ecclesiastical persons to 
marry, do against their conscience and knowledge, as may 
well be proved by these causes hereunder following. 

1. They know that matrimony in the old testament is 
permitted to all men alike, without any exception. 

2. They know that in the old testament both priests, 
levites, prophets, patriarchs, and all others, had wives. 

3. They know that matrimony was permitted and insti- 
tuted of God for two principal ends; namely, for the having 
of children and avoiding of sin. 

4. They know that in the old testament, God not only 
instituted and permitted matrimony to be free, but also in- 
duces and appoints men to marry and takes wives, in these 
words. It is not good for a man to be alone, &c. 

5. They know that in the new testament St. Paul per- 
mits the state of matrimony to be free to all men, not having 
the gifl of continency, and forbids none. 

6. They know that in the new testament St. Paul not 
only permits, but also expressly wills and charges men 
having not the gift, to marry. 

7. They know that in the new testament the said St. 
Paul not only permits and commands, but also commends 

* The other letter is given in Fox's Acts and Monuments. The 
substance is given in the recapitulation which follows. 

887 



96 Taylor. < 

and praises the state of matrimony ; (Heb. xiii.) calling it 
honourable, and the bed to be undefiled, &c. 

8. They know that in the new testament Christ himself, 
not only was not conceived nor born of the virgin before 
she was espoused in matrimony, but also that both he and 
his blessed mother did beautify and honour the state of 
matrimony with their presence; yea, in the same he began 
his first miracle. 

9. They know both by the old testament and new, that 
marriage is no impediment to walk in the obedience of 
God's commandment. For Abraham carried into the 
land of Canaan, his old, yea, and barren wife, the virtuous 
woman Sarah with him; and also to Isaac, Jacob, Moses, 
David, and others, their marriage was no impediment to 
them to walk with God ; neither to other levites, bishops, 
and priests, in the time both of the old testament and of the 
new. Again, neither was it a hindrance to Peter, Philip, 
and others, both to have their wives with them, and also 
to supply the office of apostloship. 

10. They know both by the old testament and new, that 
sinful fornication and adultery deprives man of God's fa- 
vour and graces of the Holy Ghost, which graces especially 
are requisite in men of the church. 

11. They know in their own secret conscience, and by 
experience, that neither they which enjoin this vow of chas- 
tity, nor they which take it, observe the vow of chastity. 
Whereupon rise inconveniences more than can be express- 
ed: but the Lord above knows all, besides the secret mur- 
ders peradventure of many a poor infant, &c. 

12. They know by Cyprian, (Epist. 11,) and Augustine, 
(lib. de bono conjugali ad Julianum,) that a vow is no 
impediment sufficient to hinder matrimony, or to divorce 
the same. 

13. They know that Chrysostom affirms it is a heresy to 
say that a bishop may not have a wife. 

14. They know that Ambrose, (xxxii. q. 1. Integritas,) 
will have no commandment, but counsel only, to be given 
touching the observinjT of virginity. 

15. They know that IxTore tlie time of pope Ilildebrand, 
that is, during llio time of one; thousand years aller Christ, 
marriage was never restrained by any forcible necessity of 
vow from men of tlie church. 

16. They know that St. Paul calls it the d(X?trine of 
devils to Ibrbid meats and marriage, which God hath 

388 



Last Examination and Condemnation. 97 

left free with thanksgiving for necessity of man and wo- 
man. 

Dr. Taylor concluded his letter in these words : — " God 
be praised, since my condemnation I never was afraid to 
die. God's will be done. If I shrink from God's truth, I 
am sure of another manner of death than had judge Hales. 
But, God be praised, even from the bottom of my heart, I 
am unmovably settled upon the Rock, nothing doubting 
but that my God will perform and finish the work that he 
hath begun in me and others. To him be all honour, both 
now and ever, through Christ our only and whole Saviour. 
Amen. 

After that Dr. Taylor thus with great spirit and courage 
had answered for himself, and stoutly rebuked his adver- 
saries for breaking their oath made before to king Henry 
and to king Edward, his son, and for betraying the realm 
into the power of the Roman bishop, they perceiving that 
in no case he could be stirred to their wills and purpose, 
that is, to turn with them from Christ to antichrist, com- 
mitted him thereupon to prison again, where he remained 
till the last of January. 

Dr, Taylor the fourth time, with M, Bradford and M, 
Saunders, brought before Winchester and other bishops. 

On the last day of January, 1555, Dr. Taylor and M. 
Bradford, and M. Saunders, were again called to appear 
before the bishops of Winchester, Norwich, London, Sa- 
lisbury, and Durham, and there were charged again with 
heresy and schism, and therefore a determinate answer 
was required, whether they would submit themselves to 
the Roman bishop and abjure their errors, or else they 
would, according to their laws, proceed to their condem- 
nation. 

When Dr. Taylor and his fellows, M. Bradford and M. 
Saunders, heard this, they answered stoutly and boldly, 
that they would not depart from the truth which they had 
preached ia king Edward's days, neither would they sub- 
mit themselves to the Romish antichrist ; but they thanked 
God for so great mercy, that he would call them to be 
worthy to suffer for his word and truth. 

When the bishops saw them so boldly, constantly, and 
immovably fixed in the truth, they read the sentence of 
death upon them, which when they had heard, they most 
joyfully gave God thanks, and stoutly said unto the bish- 

TAYLOR. 34 389 



98 Taylor. 

ops, We doubt not but God the righteous judge, will re- 
quire our blood at your hands, and the proudest of you all 
shall repent this receiving again of antichrist, and your 
tyranny that ye now show against the flock of Christ. So 
was Dr. Taylor condemned and committed to the Clink, 
and the keepers charged straitly to keep him. For ye have 
now another manner of charge, said the lord chancellor, 
than ye had before; therefore look ye take heed to it. 

When the keeper brought him towards the prison, the 
people flocked about to gaze upon him; unto whom he 
said, God be praised good people; I am come away from 
them undefiled, and will confirm the truth with my blood. 
So was he bestowed in the Clink till it was toward night, 
and then he was removed to the Compter by the Poultry. 

W^hen Dr. Taylor had laid in the said Compter in the 
Poultry a few days a prisoner, on the fourth day of Feb- 
ruary, Edmond Bonner bishop of London, with others, 
came to the said Compter to degrade him, bringing with 
them such ornaments as appertain to their massing mum- 
mery. Now being come, he called for the said Dr. Taylor 
to be brought unto him, the bishop being then in the cham- 
ber where the keeper of the Compter and his wife lay. So 
Dr. Taylor was brought down from the chamber above that, 
to the said Bonner. And at his coming, the bishop said, 
Master doctor, I would you would remember yourself, and 
turn to your mother holy church; so may you do well 
enough, and I will sue for your pardon. Whereunto mas- 
ter Taylor answered, I would you and your fellows would 
turn to Christ. As for me I will not turn to antichrist. 
Well, said the bishop, I am come to degrade you: where- 
fore, put on these vestures. No, quoth Dr. Taylor, I will 
not. Wilt thou not? said the bishop. I shall make thee, 
ere I go. Quoth Dr. Taylor, You shall not by the 
grace of God. Then he charged him upon his obedience to 
do it, but he would not do it for him. So he willed another 
to put them on his back; and when Dr. Taylor was tho- 
roughly furnished therewith, he set his hands by his sides, 
walking up and down, and said, How say you, my lord, 
am I not a goodly fool? Mow say you, my masters; If I 
were in Cheap,* should I not have boys enough to laugh ate 
these apish toys, and toying trumpery? So the bishop 
scraped his fingers, thumbs, and the crown of his head, 
and did the rest of such like devilish observances. 
» Cheapside. 

390 



, He is degraded by Bonner. 99 

At the last, when he should have given Dr. Taylor a 
stroke on the breast with his crosier staff, the bishop's 
chaplain said; My lord strike him not, for he will sure 
strike again. Yea by St. Peter will I, quoth Dr. Taylor, 
laughing at his fear. The cause is Christ's, and I were no 
good Christian if I would not fight in my master's quarrel. 
So the bishop laid his curse upon him, but struck him not. 
Then Dr. Taylor said ; Though you do curse me, yet God 
doth bless me. I have the witness of my conscience, that 
ye have done me wrong and violence; and yet I pray 
God, if it be his will, forgive you. But from the tyranny 
of the bishop of Rome, and his detestable enormities, 
good Lord deliver us. And in going up to his chamber, 
he still said; God deliver me from you, God deliver me 
from you. And when he came up, he told master Brad- 
ford, for then both lay in one chamber, that he had made 
the bishop of London afraid : For, saith he laughingly, his 
chaplain gave him counsel not to strike me with his crosier 
staff, for that I would strike again; and, said he, rubbing 
his hands, I made him believe I would do so indeed. 

The night after that he was degraded, his wife and his 
son Thomas resorted to him, and were by the gentleness 
of the keepers permitted to sup with him. For this differ- 
ence was ever found between the keepers of the bishops' 
prisons, and the keepers of the king's prisons; that the 
bishops' keepers were ever cruel, blasphemous, and tyran- 
nous, like their masters ; but the keepers of the king's pri- 
sons showed, for the most part, as much favour as they 
possibly might. So came Dr. Taylor's wife, his son, and 
John Hull his servant, to sup with him ; and at their 
coming in before supper, they kneeled down and prayed, 
saying the litany. 

After supper, walking up and down, he gave God thanks 
for his grace, who had so called him and given him strength 
to abide by his holy word ; and turning to his son Thomas : 
My dear son, said he. Almighty God bless thee, and give 
thee his Holy Spirit, to be a true servant of Christ, to learn 
his word, and constantly to stand by his truth all thy life 
long. And my son, see that thou fear God always. Flee 
from all sin, and wicked living; be virtuous, serve God 
with daily prayer, and apply to thy book. In any wise see 
thou be obedient to thy mother, love her, and serve her ; 
be ruled by her now in thy youth, and follow her good 
counsel in all things. Beware of wicked company, of 

391 



100 Taylor, 

young men that fear not God, but follow their wicked lusts 
and vain appetites. Flee from whoredom, and hate all 
filthy living, remembering that I thy father do die in the 
defence of holy marriage. Another day when God shall 
bless thee, love and cherish the poor people, and count that 
thy chief riches is to be rich in alms ; and when thy mother 
is waxed old, forsake her not, but provide for her accord- 
ing to thy power, and see that she lack nothing. For so 
will God bless thee and give thee long life upon earth and 
prosperity; which I pray God to grant thee. 

Then turning to his wife; My dear wife, said he, con- 
tinue steadfast in the fear and love of God ; keep yourself 
undefiled from their popish idolatries and superstitions. I 
have been unto you a faithful yokefellow, and so have you 
been unto me, for the which I pray God to reward you, 
and doubt you not, dear wife, but God will reward it. Now 
the time is come that 1 shall be taken from you, and you 
discharged of the wedlock bond towards me; therefore I 
will give you my counsel what I think most expedient for 
you. It will be most convenient for you to marry. For 
doubtless you shall never be at a convenient stay for your- 
self and our poor children, nor out of trouble, till you are 
married. Therefore as soon as God will provide it, marry 
with some honest, faithful man who fears God. Doubt you 
not God will provide an honest husband for you, and he 
will be a merciful father to you and to my children ; whom 
1 pray you bring up in the fear of God, and in learning, 
to the uttermost of your power, and keep them from this 
Romish idolatry. When he had thus said, they with weep- 
ing tears talked together, and kissed one the other; and 
lie gave to his wife a book of the church service, set out by 
king Edward, which in the time of his imprisonment he 
daily used. And unto his son Thomas he gave a Latin 
book, containing the notable sayings of the old martyrs, 
gathered out of the ecclesiastical histories ; and in the end 
he wrote his testament and last farewell, as here follows. 

The last will and testament of doctor Rowland Taylor^ 
parson of Iladley, 

I say to my wife, and to my children; The Lord gave 
you unto me anrl the Lord hath taken me from you, and 
you from me; blessed be the nnmo of the Lord. I be- 
lieve that they are blessed which die in the Lord. God 
careth for sparrows, and for the hairs of our heads. I 

392 



His last WiU and Testament. 101 

have ever found him more faithful and favourable than 
any father or husband. Trust ye therefore in him by the 
means of our dear Saviour Christ's merits ; believe, love, 
fear, and obey him; pray to him, for he hath promised to 
help. Count me not dead, for I shall certainly live, and 
never die. I go before, and you shall follow after, to our 
long home. I go to the rest of my children, Susan, 
George, Ellen, Robert, and Zachary. I have bequeathed 
you to the only Omnipotent. 

I say to my dear friends of Hadley, and to all others 
who have heard me preach; that I depart hence with a 
quiet conscience, as touching my doctrine; for which I 
pray you thank God with me. For I have, after my little 
talent, declared to others, those lessons which I gathered 
out of God's book, the blessed Bible. Therefore if I or an 
angel from heaven should preach to you any other gospel, 
than that ye have received, God's great curse upon that 
preacher. 

Beware for God's sake, that ye deny not God, neither 
decline from the word of faith, lest God decline from you, 
and so ye everlastingly perish. For God's sake beware of 
popery, for though it appear to have in it unity, yet the 
same is in vanity, and antichristianity, and not in Christ's 
faith and verity. 

Beware of the sin against the Holy Ghost, now after 
such a light opened so plainly and simply, truly, through- 
ly, and generally to all England. 

The Lord grant all men his good and Holy Spirit, in- 
crease of his wisdom, increase of contemning the wicked 
world, increase of hearty desire to be with God, and the 
heavenly company, through Jesus Christ our only Mediator, 
Advocate, Righteousness, Life, Sanctification, and Hope. 
Amen, Amen. Pray, pray. 

Rowland Taylor departing hence in sure hope, 
without all doubting of eternal salvation, I 
thank God my heavenly Father, through Jesus 
Christ my certain Saviour. Amen. 

The 5th of February, Anno 1555. 

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then 
shall I fear? (Psalm xxvii.) God is he that justifieth ; who 
is he that can condemn? (Rom. viii.) In thee, O Lord, have 
I trusted, let me never be confounded. Psalm xxi. 

On the next morrow after that Dr. Taylor had supped 
with his wife in the Compter, as is before expressed, which 

34* 393 



102 Taylor. 

was the fifth day of February, the sheriff of London, with 
his officers came to the Compter by two of the clock in the 
morning, and so brought forth Dr. Taylor, and without 
any light led him to the Woolsack, an inn without Aldgate. 
Dr. Taylor's wife suspecting that her husband should that 
night be carried away, watched all night within St. Bo- 
tolph's church-porch beside Aldgate, having with her two 
children, the one named Elizabeth, of fourteen years of 
age, whom being left without father or mother. Dr. Taylor 
had brought up of alms from three years old, the other 
named Mary, Dr. Taylor's own daughter. 

Now, when the sheriff' and his company came over 
against St. Botolph's church, Elizabeth cried, saying ; O 
my dear father: mother, mother, here is my father led 
away. Then cried his wife, Rowland, Rowland, where art 
thou ? for it was a very dark morning, that the one could 
not see the other. Dr. Taylor answered. Dear wife, J am 
here, and stayed. The sherift^'s men would have led him 
forth, but the sheriff* said ,* stay a httle masters, I pray 
you, and let him speak to his wife, and so they stayed. 
Then came she to him, and he took his daughter Mary in 
his arms ; and he, his wife, and Elizabeth kneeled down 
and said the Lord's prayer. At which sight the sheriff* 
wept apace, and so did divers others of the company. After 
they had prayed, he rose up and kissed his wife, and shook 
her by the hand, and said : Farewell, my dear wife, be of 
good comfort, for I am quiet in my conscience. God shall 
stir up a father for my children. And then he kissed his 
daughter Mary and said, God bless thee, and make thee 
his servant : and kissing Elizabeth, he said, God bless 
thee. I pray you all stand strong and steadfast unto 
Christ and his word, and keep you from idolatry. Then 
said his wife; God be with thee dear Rowlaod. 1 will with 
God's grace meet thee at Hadley. 

And so was he led forth to the Woolsack, and his wife 
followed him. As soon as they came to the Woolsack, he 
was put into a chamber, where he was kept with four yeo- 
men of the guard and the sheriff^'s men. Dr. Taylor, as 
soon as he was come into the chamber, f(;ll down on his 
knees, and gave himself wholly to prayer. The sheriff* then 
seeing Dr. Taylor's wife there, would in no case grant her 
to speak any more with her husband, but gently desired 
her to go to his house and take it as her own, and promised 
her she should lack nothing, and sent two officers to con- 

394 



His faretaell to his Wife and Children. 103 

duct her thither. Notwithstanding, she desired to go to her 
mother's, whither the officers led her, and charged her mo- 
ther to keep her there till they came again. 

Thus remained Dr. Taylor in the Woolsack, kept by the 
sheriff and his company, till eleven of the clock. At which 
time the sheriff of Essex was ready to receive him; and 
so they set him on horseback within the inn, the gates 
being shut. At the coming out of the gates, John Hull, 
before spoken of, stood at the rails with Thomas, Dr. 
Taylor's son; when Dr. Taylor saw them, he called them, 
saying, Come hither, my son Thomas. And John Hull 
filled the child up, and set him on the horse before his 
father; and Dr. Taylor put off his hat and said to the 
people that stood there looking on him ; Good people, 
this is mine own son, begotten in lawful matrimony; and 
God be blessed for lawful matrimony. Then lifted he up 
his eyes towards heaven, and prayed for his son, laid his 
hand upon the child's head, and blessed him, and so deli- 
vered the child to John Hull, whom he took by the hand, 
and said ; Farewell John Hull, the faithfulest servant that 
ever man had. So they rode forth, the sheriff of Essex, with 
four yeomen of the guard, and the sheriff's men leading him. 

When they were come almost at Burntwood, one Arthur 
Faysie, a man of Hadley, who before time had been Dr. 
Taylor's servant, met them, and he supposing him to have 
been at liberty, said : Master doctor, I am glad to see you 
again at liberty, and came to him, and took him by the 
hand. Soft sir, said the sheriff, he is a prisoner; what 
hast thou to do with him? I cry you mercy, said Arthur, 
I knew not so much, and I thought it none offence to talk 
to a true man. The sheriff was very angry with this, and 
threatened to carry Arthur with him to prison ; notwith- 
standing, he bade him get him quickly away, and so they 
rode forth to Burntwood, where they caused to be made 
for Dr. Taylor a close hood, with two holes for his eyes to 
look out at, and a slit for his mouth to breathe at. This 
they did, that no man should know him, nor he speak to 
any man. Which practice they used also with others. 
Their own consciences told them that they led innocent 
lambs to the slaughter. Wherefore they feared, lest if the 
people should have heard them speak or have seen them, 
they might have been much more strengthened by their 
godly exhortations to stand steadfast in God's word, and 
to flv the superstitions and idolatries of the papacy. 

395 



104 Taylor. 

All the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one 
that accounted himself going to a most pleasant banquet or 
bridal. He spake many notable things to the sheriff and 
yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and often moved 
them to weep, through his much earnest calling upon them 
to repent and to amend their evil and wicked living. Often- 
times also he caused them to wonder and rejoice to see him 
so constant and steadfast, void of all fear, joyful in heart 
and glad to die. Of these yeomen, three used Dr. Taylor 
friendly, but the fourth, whose name was Holmes, used 
him very homely, unkindly, and churlishly. 

At Chelmsford the sheriff^ of Suffolk met them, there to 
receive him, and to carry him forth into Suffolk. And being 
at supper, the sheriff of Essex very earnestly laboured him 
to return to the popish religion, thinking with fair words to 
persuade him and said, Good master doctor, we are right 
sorry for you, considering what loss is of such a one as ye 
might be if ye would. God hath given you great learning 
and wisdom, wherefore ye have been in great favour and 
reputation in times past with the council and highest of this 
realm.* Besides this ye are a man of goodly personage, 
in your best strength, and by nature likely to live many 
years; and without doubt, ye should in time to come, be 
in as good reputation as ever you were, or rather better. 
For you are well beloved of all men, as well for your vir- 
tues as for your learning ; and methinks it were great pity 
you should cast away yourself willingly, and so come to 
such a painful and shameful death. You should do much 
better to revoke your opinions, and return to the catholic 
church of Rome, acknowledge the pope's holiness to be the 
supreme head of the universal church, and reconcile your- 
self to him. You may do well yet, if you will ; doubt you not 
but you shall find favour at the queen's hands, and I and 
all these your friends will be suitors for your pardon ; which 
no doubt, ye shall obtain. This counsel I give you, good 
master doctor, of a good heart, and good will toward you ; 
and thereupon I drink to you. In like manner said all the 
yeomen of the guard ; Upon that condition, master doctor, 
we will all drink to you. 

When they had all drunk to him, and the cup was come 
to him, he stayed a little as one studying what answer 
he might give. At the last thus he answered and said; 

* Dr. Taylor had been employed repeatedly in public matters of 
importance. 
396 



His cheerful conduct. 105 

Master sheriff, and my masters all ; I heartily thank you 
of your good will. I have hearkened to your words and 
marked well your counsels. And to be plain with you, I 
do perceive that I have been deceived myself, and am like 
to deceive a great many of Hadley, of their expectation. 
With that word they all rejoiced. Yea, good master doc- 
tor, quoth the sheriff, God's blessing on your heart: hold 
you there still. It is the most comfortable word, that we 
heard you speak yet. What! should you cast away your- 
self in vain? Play a wise man's part, and I dare warrant 
it, you shall find favour. Thus they rejoiced very much at 
the word, and were very merry. At the last, Good master 
doctor, said the sheriff, what meant you by this, that you 
said you think you have been deceived yourself, and think 
you shall deceive many in Hadley? Would you know my 
meaning plainly, quoth he? Yea, quoth the sheriff, good 
master doctor, tell it us plainly. 

Then said doctor Taylor, I will tell you how I have been 
deceived, and, as I think, I shall deceive a great many. I 
am, as you see, a man that hath a very great carcass, 
which I thought should have been buried in Hadley church- 
yard, if I had died in my bed, as I well hoped I should 
have done. But herein I see I was deceived; and there 
are a great number of worms in Hadley church-yard, which 
should have had jolly feeding upon this carrion, which they 
have looked for many a day. But now I know we are 
deceived, both I and they; for this carcass must be burnt 
to ashes, and so shall they lose their bait and feeding, 
w^hich they looked to have had of it ! 

When the sheriff and his company heard Dr. Taylor say 
so, they w^ere amazed, and looked one on another, marvel- 
ling at the man's constant mind, who thus, without all fear, 
made but a jest at the cruel torment and death now at hand 
prepared for him. Thus was their expectation wholly dis- 
appointed. And in this appears what was his meditation in 
his chiefest v/ealth and prosperity; namely, that he should 
shortly die and feed worms in his grave ; which meditation 
if all our bishops and spiritual men had used, they had not 
for a little worldly glory forsaken the word of God and 
truth, which they in king Edward's days had preached and 
set ferth ; nor to maintain the bishop of Rome's authority, 
have committed so many to the fire as they did. 

But let us return to Dr. Taylor, who at Chelmsford was 
delivered to the sheriff of Suffolk^ and by him conducted 

397 



106 Taylor. 

to Hadley, where he suffered. When Ihey were come to 
Lavenham, the sheriff staid there two days; and thither 
came to him a great number of gentlemen and justices 
upon great horses, who all were appointed to aid the sheriff. 
These gentlemen laboured Dr. Taylor very sorely, to re- 
duce him to the Romish religion, promising him his par- 
don, which, said they, we have here for you. They pro- 
mised him great promotions, yea a bishopric if he would 
take it; but all iheir labour and flattering words were in 
vain. For he had not built his house upon the sand, in 
peril of falling at every puff of wind ; but upon the sure 
and unmovable rock, Christ. Wherefore he abode con- 
stant and unmovable unto the end. 

After two days, the sheriff and his company led Dr. 
Taylor towards Hadley, and coming within two miles of 
Hadley, he desired to light off his horse, which done, he 
leapt, and skipped once or twice as men commonly do in 
dancing. Why, master doctor, quoth the sheriff, how do 
you now? He answered: Well, God be praised, good 
master sheriff. Never better, for now I know I am almost 
at home. I lack not past two stiles to go over, and 1 am 
even at my father's house. But master sheriff, said he, 
shall not we go through Hadley? Yes, said the sheriff, you 
shall go through Hadley. Then said he: O good Lord, 
I thank thee. I shall yet once ere I die see my flock, 
whom thou. Lord, knowest I have most heartily loved and 
truly taught. Good Lord, bless them, and keep them 
steadfast in thy word and truth. 

When they were now come to Hadley, and came riding 
over the bridge, at the bridge foot waited a poor man with 
five small children; who when he saw Dr. Taylor, he and 
his children fell down upon their knees, and held up their 
hands, and cried with a loud voice, and said: O dear 
lather and good shepherd. Dr. Taylor: God help and suc- 
cour thee, as thou hast many a time succoured me and 
my poor children. Such witness had the servant of God 
of his virtuous and charitable alms given in his lifetime. 
For God would now that the poor should testify of his 
good deeds, to his singular comfort, to the example of 
others, and confusion of his persecutors and tyrannous 
adversaries. For lh(i sheriff and others that led him to 
death, were wonderfully astonished at this; and the sheriff 
sorely rebuked the poor man for so crying. The streets 
of Hadley were beset on both sides the way, with men and 
398 



He is carried through Hadley, 107 

women of the town and country, who waited to see hira. 
When they beheld him so led to death, with weeping eyes 
and lamentable voices, they cried, saying one to another, 
Ah ! good Lord, there goeth our good shepherd from Us, 
who so faithfully hath taught us, so fatherly hath cared for 
us, and so godly hath governed us. O merciful God ! what 
shall we poor scattered lambs do? What shall come of this 
most wicked world ? Good Lord, strengthen him and com- 
fort him; with such other most lamentable and piteous 
voices. Wherefore the people were sore rebuked by the 
sheriff and the catchpoles his men, that led him. And Dr. 
Taylor evermore said to the people; I have preached to 
you God's word and truth, and am come this day to seal 
it with my blood. 

Coming against the alms-houses, which he well knew,^ 
he cast to the poor people money, which remained of what 
good people had given him in time of his imprisonment. 
As for his living, they took it from him at his first going to 
prison, so that he was sustained all the time of his impri- 
sonment by the charitable alms of good people that visited 
him. Therefore the money that now remained, he put in 
a glove ready for the same purpose, and, as is said, gave it 
to the poor almsmen standing at their doors to see him. 
And cominor to the last of the alms-houses, and not seeinor 
the poor that there dwelt ready at their doors, as the others 
were, he asked; Is the blind man and blind woman that 
dwelt here alive? It was answered. Yea: they are there 
within. Then threw he glove and all in at the window, 
and so rode forth. 

Thus this good father and provider for the poor, now 
took his leave of those, for whom all his life he had a singu- 
lar care and study. For it was his custom, once in a fort- 
night at the least, to call upon sir Henry Doyle, and others 
the rich cloth-makers, to go with him to the alms-houses, 
and there to see how the poor lived ; what they lacked in 
meat, drink, clothing, bedding, or any other necessaries. 
The like did he also to other poor men that had many 
children, or were sick. Then would he exhort and comfort 
them, and, where he found cause, rebuke the unruly, and 
what they lacked, that gave he after his power; and what 
he was not able, he caused the rich and wealthy men to 
minister unto them. Thus showed he himself in all things 
an example to his flock, worthy to be followed, and taught 
by his deed, what a great treasure alms is to all such as 
cheerfully for Christ's sake do it. 

399 



103 Taylor. 

At the last, coming to Aldham Common, the place as- 
signed where he should suffer, and seeing a great multitude 
of people gathered thither, he asked, What place is this, 
and what means it that so much people are gathered hither? 
It was answered; It is Aldham Common, the place where 
you must suffer; and the people are come to look upon 
you. Then said he: Thanked be God, I am even at home, 
and so he lighted from his horse, and with both his hands, 
rent the hood from his head. Now his hair was knotted 
evil favouredly, and clipped much like as a man would clip 
a fool's head ; which cost bishop Bonner had bestowed upon 
him, when he degraded him. But when the people saw his 
reverend and ancient face, with a long white beard, they 
burst out with weeping tears, and cried, saying; God save 
thee, good Dr. Taylor; Jesus Christ strengthen thee, and 
help thee ; the Holy Ghost comfort thee ; with such other like 
godly wishes. Then would he have spoken to the people; 
but the yeomen of the guard were so busy about him, that 
as soon as he opened his mouth, one or other thrust a tip- 
staff into his mouth, and would in no wise permit him to 
speak. Then desired he licence of the sheriff to speak; 
but the sheriff denied it to him, and bade him remember 
his promise to the council. 

Well, quoth Dr. Taylor, promise must be kept. What 
this promise was, it is unknown; but the common fame 
was, that after he and others were condemned, the council 
sent for them, and threatened them they would cut their 
tongues out of their heads, except they would promise that 
at their deaths they would keep silence and not speak to 
the people. Wherefore they, desirous to have the use of 
their tongues, to call upon God as long as they might live, 
promised silence. For the papists feared much, lest this 
mutation of religion, from truth to lies, from Christ's ordi- 
nances to the popish traditions, should not so quietly have 
lx3en received as it was, especially this burning of the preach- 
ers. They, measuring others' minds by their own, feared 
lest any tumult or uproar might have been stirred, the 
people having so just a cause not to be contented with their 
doings, or else, what they most feared, that the people 
should have been more confirmed by their godly exhorta- 
tions to stand steadfast against their vain popish doctrine 
and idolatry. But thanks to God, who gave to his wit- 
nesses faith and paticnro, with stout and manly hearts to 
despise all torments; neither was there so much as any 
one man that once showed any sign of disobedience to- 

400 



His courage at the slake, 109 

wards the magistrates. They shed their blood gladly in 
the defence of the truth, so leaving example unto all men 
of true and perfect obedience; which is to obey God more 
than men, and if need require it, to shed their own blood 
rather than to depart from God's truth. 

Dr. Taylor, perceiving that he could not be suffered to 
speak, sat down, and seeing one named Soyce, he called 
him and said ; Soyce, I pray thee come and pull off my 
boots, and take them for thy labour. Thou hast long 
looked for them, now take them. Then rose he up, and 
put off his clothes unto his shirt, and gave them away. 
Which done, he said with a loud voice: Good people, I 
have taught you nothing but God's holy word, and those 
lessons that I have taken out of God's blessed book, the 
holy Bible; and I am come hither this day to seal it with 
my blood. With that v/ord. Holmes, yeoman of the guard 
aforesaid, who had used Dr. Taylor very cruelly all the 
way, gave him a great stroke upon the head with a waster,* 
and said, Is that the keeping of thy promise, thou heretic? 
Then he, seeing they would not permit him to speak, 
kneeled down and prayed, and a poor woman, who was 
among the people, stepped in and prayed with him; but 
her they thrust away, and threatened to tread her down 
with horses; notwithstanding she would not remove, but 
abode and prayed with him. When he had prayed, he 
went to the stake and kissed it, and set himself into a pitch 
barrel, which they had set for him to stand in, and so he 
stood with his back upright against the stake, with his 
hands folded together, and his eyes toward heaven, and so 
he continually prayed. 

Then they bound him with chains, and the sheriff called 
one Richard Doningham, a butcher, and commanded him 
to set up fagots; but he refused to do it, and said; I am 
lame sir, and not able to lifl a fagot. The sheriff threatened 
to send him to prison, notwithstanding he would not do it. 

Then appointed he one Mullein of Carsey, a man for his 
virtues fit to be a hangman; and Soyce a very drunkard, 
and Warwike, who, in the commotion time in king Edward's 
days, lost one of his ears for his seditious talk ; amongst 
whom was also one Robert King, a deviser of interludes,f 
who also was there present, and had doing there with the 

* A cudgel. 

t A strolling player. This King was one of them which went with 
his halberd to bring them to death which were burnt at Bury. Fox, 
TAYLOB. 35 401 



110 Taylor. 

gunpowder; what he meant and did therein, he himself 
saith he did it for the best, and for quick despatch ; the Lord 
knoweth, who shall judge all; more of this I have not to 
say. These four were appointed to set up the fagots and 
to make the fire, which they most diligently did. And 
this Warwike cruelly cast a fagot at him, which lighted 
upon his head, and brake his face, so that the blood ran 
down his visage. Then said Dr. Taylor ; O friend, I have 
harm enough, what needed that? Furthermore, sir John 
Shelton there standing by, as Dr. Taylor was speaking 
and saying the psalm Miserere in English, struck him on 
the lips ; Ye knave, said he, speak Latin, I will make thee. 
At the last they set to fire, and Dr. Taylor, holding up 
both his hands, called upon God, and said ; Merciful Father 
of heaven, for Jesus Christ's my Saviour's sake, receive my 
soul into thy hands. So stood he still, without either cry- 
ing or moving, with his hands folded together, till Soyce 
with a halberd struck him on the head, that the brains fell 
out, and the dead corpse fell down into the fire. 

Thus rendered the man of God his blessed soul into the 
hands of his merciful Father, and to his most dear and 
certain Saviour Jesus Christ, whom he most entirely loved, 
faithfully and earnestly preached, obediently followed in 
living, and constantly glorified in death. They that were 
present and familiarly conversant with this Dr. Taylor, re- 
ported of him, that they never saw in him any fear of 
death, but especially and above all the rest who besides 
him suffered at the same time, he always showed himself 
merry and cheerful in time of his imprisonment, as well 
before his condemnation, as after — he kept one countenance 
and like behaviour. Whereunto he was the rather con- 
firmed by the company and presence of master John Brad- 
ford, who was in the same prison and chamber with him.^ 

* The day following, a sermon was preached at Hadley, by Newall, 
the popish priest of the town, in wliich he inveig^hed against the mar- 
tyr with much scurrility and hittcrncss. Strypc lias g^iven the heads 
and some paiJsagcs of this discourse. Speaking of Taylor's death, 
Newall, said, " Sure he died in danmahlc case, if he did not otherwise 
repent in the hour of pain." On Aldhani common, a stone yet marks 
the place where the martyr suffered; on it is rudely engraved, '' 1555, 
D. Taylor in defending that was good. At tiiis plas left his blade." 
A more finished monument was erected there in 1818. 



402 



A 

BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF 

JOHN KNOX. 



John Knox was born at Haddington, or at Gifford, a 
neighbouring village, in Scotland, in 1505. His parents were 
respectable, and gave their son a liberal education. He after- 
wards studied at the university of St. Andrew's, w^here he made 
considerable progress in a short period under the tuition of 
John Major, an able divine, who had imbibed principles 
opposed to the lofty pretensions of the papacy. Knox was 
ordained a priest in the Romish church at an age earlier than 
usual, and taught philosophy as a lecturer in the university. 
While thus employed, he read the writings of several of the 
fathers, particularly Augustine and Jerome ; by them he was 
directed to the study of the scriptures, and by degrees was 
emancipated from the trammels of scholastic divinity. As he 
publicly advocated scriptural sentiments, he soon became an 
object of suspicion to the bigoted Romanists, and having 
quitted St. Andrew's, sentence was publicly passed against him 
as a heretic. 

Knox was chiefly indebted to Wishart for instruction in the 
doctrines of truth. At that period the Reformers were openly 
persecuted, and Knox was soon sought for. He accompanied 
Wishart for some time, and only left that Reformer the night 
previous to his apprehension by the Romanists, when Wishart 
having a presentiment of his approaching martyrdom, obliged 
Knox to leave him and return to his pupils, who were the sons 
of Douglas of Long Niddrie, and Cockburn of Ormiston. 
Knox was very attentive to the religious instruction of his 
charge, and contrived that the neighbourhood should benefit 
thereby. After concealing himself for some time, early in 1547, 
he took refuge in the castle of St. Andrew's, then held by the 
protestants, who had lately put to death the Romish cardinal 
Beaton, by whom Wishart and others had been burned. 

Here Knox was earnestly called to exercise the office of 
the ministry, which he undertook with much reluctance ; but 
when he had entered upon the duties, he discharged them with 
much energy and faithfulness, in particular controverting the 
doctrines and principles of popery, denouncing the church of 

5 



6 Knox, 

Rome as antichristian, so that many inhabitants, both of the 
town and castle, openly professed the protestant faith. 

An account of Knox's first sermon, and a disputation with 
the papists which followed, is ^iven in his history. 

On the last day of July, 1547, the castle of St. Andrew's 
was surrendered to the French forces then in Scotland. The 
besiegers, however, engaged that the lives of all persons in the 
castle should be spared ; also that they should be carried to 
France, and afterwards be conveyed to any other country they 
might prefer. 

On their arrival in France, the capitulation was violated. At 
the instigation of the pope and the Romish clergy of Scotland, 
they were detained as prisoners. Knox with some others was 
sent to the gallies, where they were kept in chains, and treated 
with much severity. They were continually threatened with 
torture if they would not join in the popish worship, but they 
steadfastly refused, and a linely painted wooden image of the 
virgin being one day forced into the hands of a prisoner, (pro- 
bably Knox himself,) he threw it into the water, saying, '' Let 
our lady now save herself, she is light enough, let her learn to 
swim 1" 

The gallies cruised off the coast of Scotland during the 
summer of 1548, and Knox's health suffered much from severe 
treatment, but while lying in a fever, he still expressed his con- 
fidence that God would deliver them. Mr. Balfour, a fellow- 
prisoner, one day pointed out the coast between Dundee and 
St. Andrew's, asking if he knew it. Knox replied, " Yes, I 
know it w^ell, I see the steeple of that place w^here God first 
opened my mouth in public to his glory ; and I am fully per- 
suaded, how weak soever I now appear, that I shall not depart 
this life, till my tongue shall glorify his name in the same place.'* 
Such an event then appeared scarcely possible, but some years 
afterwards it was literally fulfilled. During this confinement, 
his mind suffered much as well as his body, but he found relief 
in earnest supplication, and expressed his feelings at that period 
in his treatise on Prayer. He also found opportunity to write 
a confession of his faith, and other pieces, which he conveyed 
to his friends. 

In 1549, Knox was liberated, when he immediately went to 
England. Edward the Vlth was then upon the throne, and 
Cranmer was most anxious to supply the realm with able 
preachers of the gospel, the want of whom was greatly felt. 
Knox was soon stationed at Berwick, and his labours wore very 
Buccossful. This gave umbrage to Tonstal, then bishop of 
Durham ; that prelate had renounced the pope's supremacy, 
and was exceedingly moderate for a Romanist, yet he could not 
endure the doctrines tauglit by the Reformer. As Knox was 
sanctioned by the government, Tonstal could not prohibit him 
from preaching, but he listened to, and encouraged the enmity 



Ufe. 7 

of the Romanists. Knox was in consequence called upon to 
defend his tenets, which he did publicly, and completely silenced 
his adversaries. His confession, or sermon, on that occasion is 
printed in the present work. 

In 1551, Knox was removed to Newcastle, where his oppor- 
tunities for usefulness were extended, and in December that 
year, he was appointed one of the king's six chaplains in ordi- 
nary ; two of whom in turn were to be at court, and four ab- 
sent, preaching in different parts of the kingdom. In this work 
Knox laboured indefatigably, frequently preaching every day in 
the week, besides having numerous conversations with the prin- 
cipal inhabitants of the places he visited. Various documents, 
noticed by Burnet and Strype, show the importance of his ser- 
vices, and the value placed upon them. His enemies, however, 
circulated many false and calumnious reports which he was 
obliged to answer before the council, by whom he was honour- 
ably acquitted, and he received fresh marks of the king's favour. 
Preferment was offered to him, but he declined it, and continued 
his itinerant labours, occasionally preaching at court, where he 
discharged the duty of his office with the same bold, uncompro- 
mising fidelity as Latimer. In these labours Knox was em- 
ployed when king Edward died. He foresaw the measures 
which were soon afterwards adopted, and forewarned the 
citizens of London what they must shortly expect; however, he 
preached in Buckinghamshire and in Kent till November 1553, 
when he returned to London. 

At this period Knox considered it his duty to form a union 
with a young lady named Bowes, of a respectable northern 
family, to whom he had been engaged for a considerable time; 
and as the protestants were now in much danger, he withdrew 
to Northumberland, where he continued to preach the gospel 
even after the day on which the reformed worship was to cease. 
Three days subsequent to that period, he wrote thus in a letter, 
" I may not answer your places of scripture, nor yet w^rite the 
exposition of the sixth psalm, for every day of this week must I 
preach if this wicked carcass will permit." But his enemies now 
sought for him ; he found himself closely watched, and his 
friends urging him to withdraw, he embarked for France, and 
landed safely at Dieppe on January 28, 1554. 

He spoke thus of his flight in a letter to his mother-in-law. 
"Some will ask. Why did I flee? Assuredly I cannot tell. 
But of one thing I am sure — the fear of death was not the 
chief cause of my fleeing. I trust that one cause has been to 
let me see that all had not a true heart to Christ Jesus, who in 
the day of rest and peace bare a fair face." — '* I would not bow 
my knee before that most abominable idol (the mass) for all the 
torments that earthly tyrants can devise, God so assisting me, as 
his Holy Spirit now moves me to write unfeignedly. And albeit 
I have in the beginning of this battle appeared to play the faint- 



8 Knox. 

hearted and feeble soldier, (the cause for which I remit to God,) 
yet my prayer is that I may be restored to the battle again." 

While at Dieppe, he wrote and sent to England an exposition 
of the sixth psalm, and a letter addressed to the Faithful in 
London, Newcastle, and Berwick, among whom he had 
laboured, admonishing them of the danger of forsaking true 
religion. 

From thence Knox travelled to Switzerland, and after visit- 
ing the different congregations in that country, he returned to 
Dieppe to obtain information respecting the state of England, 
and hoping to be able to revisit Scotland. Finding this was 
impracticable, he went back to Switzerland, and settled at 
Geneva, where he formed an intimate friendship with Calvin. 
During his banishment, his afflicted brethren were ever present 
to his mind, and under the feelings their sufferings excited, 
he wrote his "Admonition to England." Knox's enemies refer 
to this tract as manifesting undue bitterness of language ; — his 
expressions certainly are strong, but it must not be forgotten 
that he was speaking of Gardiner, Bonner, and queen Mary, 
and of their barbarous persecutions. 

In November, 1554, he was called to undertake the charge 
of the congregation of British exiles then at Frankfort. Dis- 
putes, however, shortly after arose, relative to the form of wor- 
ship; those who opposed Knox had recourse to a most unjusti- 
fiable measure to procure his removal; they laid before the 
magistrates some passages in his writings, w^hich reflected upon 
the emperor and queen Mary, now daughter-in-law to that 
prince. These were represented as treasonable ; the result 
was, that the magistrates prohibited the Reformer from preach- 
ing, and advised him to leave the city. Knox retired to Geneva. 

in August, 1555, Knox returned to Scotland, anxious to 
see his family ; he was also induced to revisit his native country, 
by learning that a renewed disposition for reformation was be- 
ginning to appear, which was promoted by some who had fled 
from England on account of religion. He conversed with his 
friends and some of the nobility, and urged them to separate 
from the Romish church. lie even preached and administered 
the sacrament publicly. The papists summoned Knox to ap- 
pear before a convention of the clergy, lioping to drive liiui 
from the country, but finding that he was resolved to attend, they 
discharged the summons upon some frivolous pretence. Knox, 
liowever, came to Edinburgh, and preached publicly both morn- 
ing and at\ernoon, for ten days, no one interrupting him. 
While thus employed, he wrote to his mother-in-law. "JViay 
(j()d, tor Christ his Son's sake, grant me to be mindful, that the 
sobs of my heart have not been in vain nor neglected in the 
presence of his Majesty. Sweet were the death that should 
follow forty such days in Edinburgh as I Iiave had tliree.'* At 
the desire of some nobles, he addressed a letter to the queen 



i 



Life. 9 

regent, urging her to countenance the Reformation, but she 
treated his counsel with contempt. 

At this time Knox received an application from the English 
church at Geneva, requesting him to return and become their 
pastor. He complied, and proceeded thither in July 1556, ac- 
companied by his wife and mother-in-law. As soon as he had 
departed, the Romish clergy, who dared not to meet him face 
to face, condemned him as a heretic ; and as his body was out 
of their reach, they caused his effigy to be burned at the cross 
of Edinburgh. Upon hearing of this, Knox drew up an Ap- 
pellation, with a Supplication and Exhortation, addressed to the 
nobility and commonalty of Scotland, in which he gave a sum- 
mary of the doctrines he had taught during his late visit. 

Knox abode at Geneva for nearly two years. This was the 
most quiet period of his life. The greatest cordiality existed 
between himself, his colleague, and the people under his charge. 
He also enjoyed the friendship of Calvin and the other Genevese 
ministers. During this time, he assisted several other exiles 
from England in preparing a translation of the bible more con- 
formable to the originals than those which had previously ap- 
peared. This is commonly called the Geneva bible, and thirty- 
editions of it were printed during the ensuing half century. It 
was at that period more used in private families than any 
other, and many strong testimonies have been given of its value. 

In 1557, Knox received a letter from the earl of Glencairn, 
and others who desired to promote the Reformation in Scotland. 
They stated that the professors of the truth continued steadfast, 
while the papists declined in credit, and invited him to return to 
Scotland, where he would find many disposed to receive him 
and support him with their lives and fortunes. Calvin and 
other friends advised Knox to comply with this call : he accord- 
ingly proceeded to Dieppe, where he received letters, stating 
that some had already repented of having sent the invitation. 
He wrote a reply, printed in his history, admonishing the 
leaders of the importance of their enterprise. Knox was thus 
compelled to delay his journey ; he passed some time in France, 
and then returned to Geneva, having first written some earnest 
and heart-searching epistles to his countrym.en ; — indeed the 
letters of Knox appear to have had a very considerable influ- 
ence in eflfecting the Reformation of Scotland. At this time, 
in consequence of the bigoted proceedings of Mary queen of 
England, Knox wrote against females being intrusted with the 
government of nations ; but that work, and the controversy 
which it occasioned, need not be here noticed. 

The protestant nobility of Scotland again took courage. In 
December 1557, they subscribed a bond of mutual assurance, 
and again invited Knox to return. Their letters did not reach 
him till November 1558, by which time they had formed con- 
gregations in many parts of the kingdom. 

KNOX. 2 



10 Knox, 

The popish clergy now resumed their persecutions, and 
burned an aged priest of good character, named Walter Mill, 
which excited universal horror, and stimulated the protestants 
to avow more openly their resolutions to adhere to their faith. 
About this time queen Mary of England died, and most of the 
English exiles prepared to return. 

Knox now once more proceeded towards his native country : 
being refused permission to pass through England, he sailed 
for Scotland, and landed at Leith, in May, 1559. The Reformer 
arrived at a critical moment, for the queen regent had sum- 
moned all the protestant preachers to appear before her at 
Stirling, to answer for their conduct. He resolved to join them, 
and found a large body of the laity assembled to conduct their 
preachers, but in a peaceable manner. The great body of the 
Reformers remained at Perth, sending one of their number to 
court. The queen pretended to be appeased, and authorized 
their deputy to assure them that she had stopped the trial ; 
but when the day came, the preachers were summoned and 
outlawed for non-appearance ! 

The news of this treachery could not but incense the body 
of protestants,* many of whom had remained at Perth. On 
the day when the intelligence was received, Knox preached 
a sermon, in which he exposed the mass and image worship. 
Scarcely had he concluded, when a priest exhibited a rich altar- 
piece decked with images, and prepared to say mass. Some 
idle persons were loitering in the church, one of whom, a boy, 
expressed his disapprobation aloud. The priest struck him, 
and the boy threw a stone in return, which broke one of the 
images. This excited the bystanders, and in a few minutes the 
altar, images, and all the trumpery were broken and trampled 
under foot. A mob then assembled, composed of the lower 
classes, who, in defiance of the magistrates and reformed 
preachers, hastened to attack the other strong holds of super- 
stition, and soon laid the monasteries in ruins. But so far from 
encouraging this attack, Knox exerted himself to the utmost to 
repress the tumult, which in fact promoted the views of the 
queen regent rather than those of the reformers, as she was 
thereby enabled to excite many against the Reformation who 
hitherto had been indifferent upon the subject. 

But the nation was now roused, and several of the nobility 
determined to exert to the utmost the powers they possessed 
under the feudal system, rather than allow the Reformation to 
be suppressed, and their country again to be enslaved beneath 
the yoke of superstition. It is unnecessary to enter minutely into 
the details of the proceedings which followed, durinir which 
Knox preached in the cathedral of St. Andrew's, agreeably to the 
confident hope he had expressed when a prisoner on board the 
galleys. The result of his visit to that city was the removal of 

* About this time thrv wrrr first rallrd The ronjiro;rnti«>n. 



Life. 11 

images and pictures from the churches, and the demolition of 
the monasteries ; the example was speedily followed in other 
parts of the kingdom.* 

Many lamentations have been uttered over these proceedings, 
and it is not Romanists alone who would persuade us that the 
monastic system was fraught with blessings ! Let such persons 
take up their abode in the countries where popery yet reigns to 
the exclusion of any other faith, and enjoy the happiness result- 
ing from it ! but let them not forget the privileges they enjoy, 
and insult the religion they profess, by regretting the removal of 
one of the main supports of antichristian tyranny and bigoted 
ignorance. It is obvious that where the monastic system pre- 
vails, the door is closed against the progress of gospel truth. 

While the lords of the congregation, as the protestant leaders 
were denominated, were able to maintain themselves in opposi- 
tion to the regent, Knox visited the greater part of Scotland. 
The attention of the nation was roused ; their eyes were opened 
to the errors by which they had been deluded ; and they panted 
for the word of life which they had once tasted. It soon, how- 
ever, became apparent that foreign aid was necessary ; appli- 
cation being made to England, assistance was given, and in July 
1560, a treaty was concluded, by which the French troops were 
sent home. No settlement of religion being stipulated for by 
this treaty, the result was, that as soon as the foreign aid had 
been withdrawn, and the popular feeling in favour of the Refor- 
mation was left at liberty, the Romish formularies were every 
where discontinued. 

Knox now resumed his situation as minister of Edinburgh. 
One of his first labours was to compose a protestant Confession 
of Faith, which being presented to the parliament, received 
their sanction, the Romish prelates suffering it to pass without 
opposition. Knox was also principally concerned in preparing 
the First book of Discipline, and took an active part in the 
proceedings of the general assembly of the Scottish reformed 
church, then first summoned. 

In December, 1560, Knox suffered a heavy loss by the death 
of his first wife, whose affection and piety had been his solace 
and support in his painful exile; but public duties called for 
the Reformer's attention, and prevented him from dwelling upon 
his domestic sorrows. On the 19th of August, 1561, queen 
Mary returned to Scotland, and assumed the government. The 

* Knox is related to have said, " That the best way to keep the rooks 
from returning, v.-asto pull down their nests!" Public documents show 
that the Reformers, both laity and clergy, desired to confine this destruc- 
tion to " idolatrous houses," and that care was taken to remove the 
images, &;c, from the churches without injury to the fabrics. This is 
stated in a letter written by Cecil at that time, and it appears that 
scarcely any churches or places for public worship were then destroyed, 
though afterwards many were suffered to fall into a dilapidated state 
from the internal troubles and other causes. 



12 Knox, 

reader will recollect that she had been educated in France from 
the age of six years, and was the widow of Francis II., after 
whose untimely death her residence in that kingdom was no 
longer acceptable to those who directed the government, and 
the state of her paternal inheritance required her presence. 

To attempt a particular delineation of the character and 
conduct of Mary would be quite foreign to the design of these 
pages, but it is necessary to observe that her residence in 
France, and her close intimacy with the Guises, who still re- 
tained their influence over her, unfitted her for the proper dis- 
charge of the important duties she now had to fulfil. She was 
naturally of a violent temper, and had been too much habituated 
to flattery, to endure contradiction patiently. The luxury and 
levities of the French court, in which she delighted, were com- 
pletely opposed to the habits and manners of Scotland. Arbi- 
trary, and blindly attached to the Romish religion, she could 
not endure the independence of the nobles, and the general pre- 
ference for the Reformation evinced by her subjects.* It is 
not surprising, that as these dispositions became manifest, she 
lost the affections of the nation at large. Open persecution 
for conscience sake had been too frequent to render the prin- 
ciples and practice of the Scottish queen, and her bigoted adhe- 
rence to popery, a matter of indifference. The fires in which 
the martyrs had been burned, were still fresh in the recollection 
of the Scottish nation, and the same scenes were still exhibited 
in other countries. It has been very properly asked, What 
would have been the treatment a protestant queen would have 
received in those days, had she succeeded to the throne of a 
popish nation ] Would she have been allowed to reign, even 
though she had not attempted to interfere with the religion of 
her subjects'? 

The prominent station occupied by Knox soon brought him 
into collision with the queen. Shortly after her arrival she 
sent for him to the palace, and brought grievous charges against 
him ; — to all these he replied witli firmness and courage, and yet 
with respect ; a minute and interesting account of this interview 
is given by Knox in his history. Being asked what he thought 
of the queen, he said, " If there be not in her a proud mind, a 
crafty wit, and a hardened heart against God and his truth, my 
judgment faileth me ; and this I say with a grieved heart, for 
the good I wish unto her, and by her to the church and state." 
Of the result of this conference Randolph, the English ambas- 
sador, wrote, " He (Knox) concluded so in the end with her, that 
he hath liberty to speak his conscience ; and to give unto Iter 

* In a letter to the pope, dated January 31, 1501, Mary laments "the 
daniimble errors' in which, on her return to Scothmd, she found her 
suhjccts pluni^ed, and assures the pontifl* lliat from the time she left 
France, her intention uniformly had heen to reestablish the ancient 
reli<^ion. Sec Robcrlaon's History of Scodaiid. 



Life, 13 

such reverence as becometh the ministers of Gcxl unto the su- 
perior powers." Knox certainly endeavoured to unite both. 
Of the power with wliich he declared his mind, the ambassador 
speaks in the same letter to the English secretary of state. 
" Your honour exhorts us to stoutness — I assure you the voice 
of one man is able in an hour to put more life in us than six 
hundred trumpets continually blustering" in our ears." Such 
stoutness was indeed needful in those days. Soon afterwards 
Knox was called to appear before the queen and her counsel- 
lors, to answer for a sermon in which he had noticed, in severe 
terms, the massacre of Vassy in France.* She reproved him 
sharply, but he denied the exaggerations which were falsely laid 
to his charge, and said he was willing to do any thing to content 
her majesty, which was consistent with his office. As he left 
the room, he heard some of the attendants say, with apparent 
surprise, " He is not afraid !" Knox promptly replied, " Why 
should the pleasing face of a gentlewoman affright me ] I have 
looked in the faces of many angry men, and yet have not been 
aifrighted above measure." 

The extent and importance of the labours of Knox at this 
time can only be appreciated by those who carefully examine 
the histories of that period. They were in many instances un- 
avoidably mixed with proceedings of a secular nature. The 
queen had declared, she "hoped before a year was expired, to 
have the mass and catholic profession restored through the 
whole kingdom." The Romanists were encouraged to take up 
arms, and some of the clergy offered to dispute with the protest- 
ant ministers. The first who presented himself was Quintin 
Kennedy, abbot of Crossraguel. A public disputation between 
this abbot and Knox took place in September, 1562, respecting 
the sacrifice of the mass. It is unnecessary to say the Reformer 
had the advantage. An account of the disputation was printed. 

In the discharge of his public office, Knox felt it his duty to 
bear his testimony against the proposed marriage of the queen 
with Darnley. For this he was again called to answer, when he 
pleaded respectfully in his own defence, saying, " Out of the 
pulpit he thought few had occasion to be offended with him ; 
but there he was not master of himself, but bound to obey 
Him who commanded him to speak plainly, and flatter no flesh 
on the face of the earth." The details of these and other occa- 
sions upon which Knox w^as brought before the queen and her 
council will be found in his history. Her tears of disappointed 
passion, when unable to overawe her counsellors, and induce 
them to condemn the Reformer, have afforded a copious theme 
for her advocates, by whom the conduct of Knox has been 

* The attendants of the duke of Guise, in March 156'2, attacked a 
protestant congregation while assembled tor worship, and killed and 
iv'ounded nearly three hundred of them, including women and children. 

2* 



14 Knox. 

continually misrepresented. The intrigues of the queen's party 
in the parliament continued to throw many obstacles in the way 
of the Reformation. 

In March, 1564, Knox married the daughter of Lord Ochil- 
tree, an amiable and excellent nobleman. She was an affec- 
tionate and attentive wife. In the following year, the earl of 
Murray and other Scottish nobles resorted to arms against the 
queen, but Knox took no part in their revolt. It was unsuc- 
cessful, and the leaders fled for refuge to England. The Re- 
former continued to discharge his usual duties, but having 
preached a sermon on the 19th August, 1565, at which the new 
king was present, Darnley took umbrage at part of the dis- 
course, although Knox had made no particular application of 
it to him. The Reformer was taken from his bed the same atler- 
noon, and carried before the privy council, where he defended 
what he had said, and caused his sermon to be printed. He 
was, however, forbidden to preach while the king and queen 
remained at Edinburgh, but as they left before the next sab- 
bath, Knox was allowed to continue his labours without inter- 
ruption. 

Early in 1566, danger to the protestants appeared near at 
hand : a messenger arrived from the cardinal of Lorraine, 
with a copy of the league recently formed in France, for the 
general extirpation of the protestants, to which the queen 
affixed her signature. She had concerted measures for the re- 
storation of popery, and her preparations for the execution of 
her project were fully made ; but these measures were blasted by 
Darnley's confederacy with some of the protestant nobles, and 
the assassination of Rizzio. There are no grounds for supposing 
that Knox was privy to that deed, although he did not censure 
it. The anger of the queen being greatly excited, Knox was 
recommended to withdraw from Edinburgh for a time, and he 
visited England. 

During his absence, the occurrences which excluded Mary 
from the throne took place. The murder of Darnley, the 
queen's hasty marriage with Bothwell, and her proceedings 
against the protestant nobles, excited the Scottish nation so 
fully against her, that she was speedily obliged to leave her 
capital — her subseciuent surrender and imprisonment are well 
known, although the circumstances of her conduct which oc- 
casioned them are not always remembered. 

Al)out this time Knox returned and preached at the corona- 
tion of the infant king, James VI., but objected to some of the 
ceremonies used on that occasion. He urged at this time, that 
the queen should be judicially proceeded against for the perso- 
nal crimes of which she was accused. The earl of Murray 
being settled as regent, the protestant faith became firmly esta- 
blished. The work in which Knox's heart had so long been 
engaged, and in which he had so ardently laboured, was now 



Life, 15 

completed, and the Reformer trusted that he should be released 
from public affairs. He hoped to spend the rest of his life in 
religious meditation, and in preparation for the event which 
his infirmities warned him to be at hand. But the partizans of 
Mary were not subdued — they resolved to murder the regent 
Murray. He was assassinated by Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, 
who had been spared by the regent when condemned and actually 
brought out for execution. This dreadful act excited much 
consternation. Many even of Murray's enemies lamented his 
loss, while those who had sheltered the murderer, soon became 
anxious to free themselves from the imputation of having been 
accessary to a deed, which some modern writers have attempted 
to justify ! 

The grief with which Knox was afflicted at this event 
deeply affected his health and spirits. In October following, 
he had a stroke of apoplexy, from the effects of which he 
never fully recovered, although he v^as able to preach on the 
Lord's day mornings. Still, however, he manifested his ardent 
desire for the best interests of his country. Shortly afterwards 
he was placed in a critical situation, for the partisans of the 
queen obtained possession of Edinburgh. His life Vv^as now 
threatened, and attempts were made to assassinate him, but 
they failed. His friends were obliged to watch his house at 
night, and a number of the inhabitants, with his colleague in 
the ministry, entreated him to remove to some place where he 
migJit be in greater safety. He at length consented, though 
much against his will, lest blood should be shed upon his account, 
as the queen's party gave many proofs of enmity towards him, 
and a musket-ball had been fired into the room where he was 
sitting, which narrowly missed him. He had removed from 
the place where he usually sat. 

Knox retired to St. Andrew's, v/here he continued to preach, 
although unable to walk to the pulpit without help, but when 
warmed by his subject, his weakness disappeared. The follow- 
ing description of his preaching is given by James Melville who 
attended his ministry during this period. He says, " I heard 
him teach the prophecies of Daniel that summer, and the winter 
following. I had my pen and little book, and took away such 
things as I could comprehend. In the opening up of his text, he 
was moderate for the space of half an hour, but when he entered 
on application, he made me so to thrill that I could not hold 
a pen to write. He was very weak, I saw him every day that 
he taught go slowly and warily, with a furring of martins 
about his neck, a staff in the one hand, and good godly 
Richard Ballenden his servant, holding up his other arm-pit, 
from the abbey to the parish church, and there, by the same 
Richard and another, lifted up to the pulpit, where he was obliged 
to lean at his first entrance ; but before he had done his sermon 
he was so active and vigorous, that he was like to ding the 



16 Knox. 

pulpit in blads,* and fly out of it." The same writer also says, 
"Mr. Knox would some times come in and amuse himself in 
our college yard, and call us scholars unto him and bless us, 
and exhort us to know God and his work in our country, and 
stand by the good cause ; to use our time well, and learn the 
good instructions, and follow the good example of our masters." 

Knox felt an ardent desire to be freed from the trials of this 
life. This he frequently expressed in his letters, and the dedi- 
cation prefixed to a vindication of the Reformed religion, pub- 
lished by him at this time in answer to a Jesuit named Tyrie, 
commences thus, *' John Knox, the servant of Jesus Christ, 
now weary of the world, and daily looking for the dissolution 
of this my earthly tabernacle, to the faithful that God of his 
mercy shall appoint to fight after me." 

He took his leave of the general assembly shortly after, in a 
letter transmitting certain matters for their consideration. The 
last public service he performed at their request, was the ex- 
amination of a sermon preached by a minister named Ferguson. 
To this he affixed his approval in these striking terms. ** John 
Knox, with my dead hand but glad heart, praising God that of 
his mercy he leaves such light to his church in this desolation." 

A cessation of arms having been agreed upon, the citizens of 
Edinburgh sent a deputation to St. Andrew's, requesting Knox 
to return and resume his ministry among them. He complied, 
and was received with much joy. Knox preached again in his 
own pulpit the last sabbath in August, 1572, but his voice had 
become so weak, that scarcely half the congregation could hear 
him. He therefore requested that a smaller place might be 
provided for him; accordingly the Tolbooth church was selected 
for that purpose. He there delivered to the people some homi- 
lies upon the suflferings of Christ, often expressing an ardent 
desire to finish his life preaching that doctrine. 

The citizens had requested his advice in the selection of a 
minister to assist him, and after some consideration, Mr. James 
Lawson, sub-principal of King's college at Aberdeen, was ap- 
pointed ; — Knox wrote to him the following letter, which de- 
scribes his feelings at that ])eriod. 

Dear Brother, 

Seeing God of his mercy, far above my expectation, hath 
called me once again to Kdiuburgh, and yet I feel nature so de- 
cayed, and daily to decay, that I look not for a long continu- 
ance of my battle, I would gladly once discharge my con- 
science unto your bosom, and unto the bosom of others, in whom 
I think the fear of (.iod remaineth. If I had the ability of 

* **Beat the pulpit to pieces." (Melville's Diary, see M*Crie.) The 
diary of Richard Bannatyne (here called Ballcnden) was published a 
tew years since, and contains much interesting information respecting 
that period. 



Ufe, 17 

body, I should not have put you to the pains to which I require 
you now, that is, once to visit me, that we may confer together 
of heavenly things ; for in earth there is no stability except the 
kirk of Jesus Christ, ever fighting under the cross, to whose 
protection I heartily commit you. From Edinburgh, 7th of 
September, 1572. 

" Haste, brother, or you will come too late." 

Mr. Lawson came to Edinburgh, September 15th, and 
preached on the Friday after, to the great satisfaction of the 
people, and continued preaching till he was admitted to the 
charge of the ministry at Edinburgh. Knox preached in 
the Tolbooth as long as he had strength of body; but his 
health was greatly impaired by the news of the massacre of the 
protestants at Paris about this time.* It was brought to Edin- 
burgh about the twelfth of September, by Mr. Killigrew, am- 
bassador from queen Elizabeth. Knox mentioned the event 
in his next sermon, with a denunciation of God's vengeance 
thereon, which he desired the French ambassador, monsieur 
La Croc, might be acquainted with. The denunciation was 
to this purport, " Sentence is pronounced in Scotland against 
that murderer, the king of France, and God's vengeance 
shall never depart from him nor his house : but his name shall 
remain an execration to posterity ; and none that shall come 
of his loins shall enjoy that kingdom in peace and quietness, 
unless repentance prevent God's judgment." The ambassador 
being informed of this, applied to the regent and council, and 
complained that his master was called a traitor and murderer 
of his subjects, under a promise and trust ; and desired that 
an edict might be published, prohibiting the subjects of Scotland 
from speaking any thing to the dishonour of his master, espe- 
cially the ministers in their sermons. This was declined by the 
council, and the ambassador was told, that they could not hinder 
the ministers from speaking even against themselves. 

On Sunday, November the 9th, in the year 1572, Knox ad- 
mitted Mr. Lawson as his colleague and successor: but his 
voice was so weak, that few could hear him. He declared the 
mutual duty between a minister and his flock ; he praised God, 
who had given them one in his room, who was now unable to 
teach, and desired that God might augment his graces to him a 
thousand fold above that which he had, if it were his pleasure ; 

* The massacre of St. Bartholomew, in which the admiral de Co- 
ligni, and several chiefs of the French protestants, who had been in- 
veigled to Paris by the artifices of Charles IX., were murdered. More 
than thirty thousand persons were cruelly put to death in a few days, 
and the streets of Paris literally ran with blood. A public thanks- 
giving was offered up at Rome on hearing of this massacre. 

Of this event De Thou, an historian who lived at that time, and who 
himself was a Romanist, says, " No similar instance of atrocity can be 
found in the annals of any nation, in all antiquity." 



IS Knox. 

and ended with pronouncing the blessing". He then came down 
from the pulpit, leaning upon his staff, and was accompanied 
by almost the whole assembly to his house. As he walked 
slowly down the street, it was crowded by people who waited till 
he had passed, as if they were conscious he would not again 
appear amongst them. The particulars which follow are chiefly 
from the life of Knox written by Smeton, principal of the uni- 
versity of Glasgow. 

From this day Knox hastened to his end. Upon the llth, 
he was seized with a violent cough and great pains of the body ; 
breathing with more and more difficulty, till he breathed his 
last. When his friends advised him to send for some physi- 
cians, he smilingly consented ; saying, " I would not either 
despise or neglect ordinary means ; but of this I am certain, 
that God will shortly put an end to my warfare below." 

The day after, he ordered his servants to be paid their wages ; 
whom, at the same time, he earnestly exhorted to walk in the 
fear of the Lord, and to live so, as became christians educated 
in that family. His disorder growing worse and worse, he 
was forced to discontinue his ordinary method of reading ; 
which used to be, every day, some chapters of the new testa- 
ment, and in the old, particularly the psalms; and some use- 
ful portion of ecclesiastical history. In the mean while, he re- 
quested his wife, and Richard Bannatyne, his servant, who 
was always very dear to him for his remarkable piety, that they 
would take care to read to him every day while he lived, the 
seventeenth chapter of St. John's gospel, one or other of the 
chapters of the epistle to the Ephesians, and the fifty- third 
chapter of Isaiah : which they punctually and diligently per- 
formed. 

He was always peculiarly fond of the book of Psalms, God 
having greatly blessed them to his soul. With some select 
portions of those admirable compositions he was much com- 
forted in life, and strengthened in death. He also had some 
of Calvin's French sermons on the Ephesians read to him. 

On the 14th, he rose from his bed by seven o'clock ; and 
being asked, Why, when he was so weak and sick, he would 
not ratlier choose to rest himself, he answered, thinking it 
was the sabbath, *' I have been this whole night taken up with 
the meditation of the resurrection of Jesus Christ my Lord ; 
and would with joy get into the pulpit, that I might commu- 
nicate to others, the comfort I have inwardly enjoyed from 
reflecting on that blessed subjoct." So intent was he on the 
work of the Lord, even to liis last breath : and when, for want 
of strength, he could scarcely be liflcd out of bed by tiie assist- 
ance of two servants ! 

A few days afler, on the 17th, he sent for all the ministers of 
the churches in Edinburgh, to whom, being assembled round 
his bed, he thus addressed himself: " That day is now at hand, 



Life. 19 

which I have so oflen and intensely longed for; in which, 
having finished my heavy labours, and gone through my various 
sorrows, I shall be dissolved, and be with Christ. And I ap- 
peal to God, whom I have served in spirit in the gospel of 
his Son, that I have taught nothing but the true and solid doc- 
trines of his word ; having been chiefly desirous, through the 
whole course of my ministry, to instruct the ignorant ; to edify 
and comfort believers; to lift up and confirm, with the promises 
of grace, those who were weak, fearful, and doubting, through 
the fear of wrath and a sense of their sins ; and to beat down 
haughty rebellious sinners with the threatenings and terrors of 
the Lord. And although many have frequently complained of 
my harshness in preaching, yet, God knows, that I did not thus 
deal out thunders and severity from hatred to the persons of 
any : though this I will acknowledge, that the sins in which 
they indulged themselves were the objects of my keenest 
hatred and displeasure ; still, however, keeping this as the one 
thing in view, that if it were possible I might gain over their 
souls to the Lord. My motive for speaking freely and plainly 
whatever the Lord gave me to say, without respect of per- 
sons, was nothing but reverence to that God who called me hy 
his grace, and made me the dispenser of his divine mysteries ; 
before whose tribunal I knew I must one day stand, to give ac- 
count for my discharge of that embassy which he had com- 
mitted unto me, and this had such a powerful effect, as to make 
me utter so boldly whatever the Lord put in my mouth, with- 
out respect of persons. Wherefore I profess, before God and his 
holy angels, that I have never made gain of his sacred word, 
never held back any of his counsel from my people ; never stu- 
died to please men, or gave way to the corrupt affections or 
worldly interest of myself or others ; but have faithfully em- 
ployed the talents committed to me, for the good of the church 
over whom I was in the Lord. To the truth of this, my con- 
science bears testimony ; which is a comfort to me, notwith- 
standing the various slanders which some have cast upon me. 
And do ye, my dearest brethren in the faith and labour of Jesus, 
persist in the everlasting truths of his gospel. Look diligently 
to the flocks, with whose oversight God hath intrusted you ; 
and which he hath redeemed to himself by the blood of his 
Son. And do you, niy brother Lawson, fight the good fight, 
and finish the work of God, to which you are called, with 
cheerfulness and confidence. May God shower down his 
blessing from on high, upon you and your several charges in 
this city ! which, so long as they continue to hold fast those 
doctrines of truth, which they have heard of me, (God having 
made me a minister of it,) the gates of hell shall never be able 
to prevail against. And beware of those, who not only deny 
the king's authority, but have also forsaken the truth which 
they once professed. Against whom I denounce, that, unless 



20 Knox. 

they sincerely repent, and return to the good way which they 
have left, they shall one day miserably perish in soul and body. 
I would say more ; but cannot, as I am scarcely able to draw 
my breath." With these words he dismissed them, they re- 
joicing at his constancy, and earnestly praying for him. He 
afterwards spoke in private to those who attended him, to 
admonish one Grange, the governor of the castle for the par- 
tisans of queen Mary ; on whom tliat judgment afterwards fell 
which Knox predicted. He was then visited by the chief no- 
bility of the town, among whom was lord Morton, afterwards 
regent of the kingdom ; as also by some pious ladies of the 
first quality, and many godly men, none of whom he suffered 
to depart without a word of comfort or exhortation, as their 
respective cases required. 

A religious lady of his acquaintance desired him to praise 
God for what good he had done, and was beginning to speak in 
his commendation, when he interrupted her, — " Tongue, tongue, 
lady — flesh of itself is overproud, and needs no means to esteem 
itself" He then exhorted her to humility, and protested, as he 
had often done before, that he relied wholly on the free mercy 
of God, manifested to mankind through his dear Son Jesus 
Christ, whom alone he embraced for wisdom and righteousness, 
sanctification and redemption. 

Perceiving death to approach nearer and nearer, upon Friday 
the 21st, he gave orders for his coffin to be made. Atler 
which he frequently spoke to this effect : " Come, Lord Jesus, 
sweetest Saviour, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Look 
I beseech thee, with favour, upon this church which thou hast 
redeemed, and restore peace to this atflicted commonwealth. 
Raise up pastors after thine own heart, who may take care of 
thy churcli ; and grant that we may learn, as well from the 
blessings as from the chastisements of thy providence, to abhor 
sin, and love thee with full purpose of heart." Then, turning 
to those about him, he would say, '* O serve the Lord with 
fear, and death will not be terrible : Yea, blessed and holy shall 
death be to those who have felt the power of the death of the 
only begotten Son of God." Being asked by Robert Campbell, 
whether he felt much pain, he replied, " 1 cannot look upon 
that as pain which brings on the end of mortality and trouble, 
and is the beginning of life." 

On the 23d, during the afternoon sermon, after lying quiet a 
considerable time, he exclaimed, " If any b(3 present, let them 
come and see the work of God." His servant thinking his death 
was at hand, sent to the church for some of his friends. When 
they came to his bedside, he burst out into these rapturous ex- 
pressions, "These two last nights I have been in meditation on 
the troubled state of the church of God, the spouse of Jesus 
Christ, despised of the world, but precious in the sight of God. 
I have called to God for her, and have committed her to her 



Ufe, 21 

Head, Jesus Christ. I have fought against spiritual wicked- 
ness in heavenly things, and have prevailed. I have been in 
heaven, and have possession. I have tasted of the heavenly 
joys v^^here at present I am." He repeated the Lord's prayer 
and the apostles' creed ; enlarging, as he went on, most sweetly 
and spiritually, upon each of the separate petitions and articles, 
to the great comfort and edification of them that were by. 
Afterwards, lifting up his hands towards heaven, he cried out, 
*' To thee, Lord, do I commit myself Thou knowest how in- 
tense my pains are ; but I do not complain. Yea, Lord, if 
such be thy will concerning me, I could be content to bear 
these pains for many years together, which in thy just judg- 
ment thou hast laid upon me. Only do thou continue to en- 
lighten ray mind through Christ Jesus." He passed that night 
in suffering, being somewhat worse than usual. The next day it 
was evident that his end drew near. The fifteenth chapter of 1 Co- 
rinthians being repeatedly read to him, at his own desire, he ex- 
claimed, " Oh what sweet and heavenly consolation my Lord af- 
fords me, from this blessed chapter!" adding, "Now for the 
last time I commend my soul, spirit, and body (touching three of 
his fingers as he spoke) into thy hand O Lord." But, when one 
of his eyes became blind, and his speech began to fail, he cried 
faintly, " Turn to the seventeenth of St. John, and read it care- 
fully ; for there I cast my first anchor." When that was read, 
he rested a little ; but soon began to utter very heavy groans 
and deep sighs ; so that the by-standers plainly perceived he 
was grappling with some very great temptation. There were, 
at this time, present in the room, one John Johnson, a holy 
man, and Robert Campbell, a great friend to the gospel, Mrs. 
Knox, and others ; who, observing his agonies, thought him to 
be in the pains of death. At length, however, contrary to their 
expectation, he recovered, like one awaked from sleep ; and 
being asked how he did, he answered, "Many have been my 
conflicts with satan, in the course of my frail life, and many the 
assaults w^hich I have sustained ; but that roaring lion never 
beset me so furiously and forcibly as now. Often has he set 
my sins in array before me ; often has he tempted me to de- 
spair ; and often strove to ensnare me with the enticements of 
the world : but, I being enabled to hew his snares in pieces 
with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, he was 
no% able to prevail against me. But now he has found out a 
new way. That crafty serpent has endeavoured to persuade 
me, that, because I have faithfully and successfully discharged 
my ministerial office, I am on that account deserving of eternal 
life and a happy immortality. But God was pleased to make 
me triumphant over this temptation also, by powerfully sug- 
gesting to my memory those texts. What hast thou that thou 
didst not receive] and. By the grace of God, I am what I am : 
and, Not I, but the grace of God in me : — being thus 
vanquished, he left me. I thank ray God, therefore, through 

KNOX. 3 



22 Knox, 

Christ, who has vouchsafed me the victory; and I am per- 
suaded, that satan will not be permitted to return, or molest 
me any more, in my passage to glory ; but that I shall, 
without any pain of body, or agony of soul, sweetly and peace- 
Hilly exchange this wretched life for that blessed and immortal 
one, which is through Christ Jesus." He lay quiet tor some 
hours till evening prayers were said ; and being asked, whether 
he could hear them distinctly, he answered, " Would to God 
you all heard tliem with such ears, and perceived with the same 
mind, as 1 am enabled to do ! Lord Jesus receive my spirit." 
About eleven o'clock he gave a deep sigh, and said, " Now it is 
come." Bannatyne tlien drew near the bed, and desired him to 
think upon the comfortable promises of our Saviour Jesus 
Christ, which he had so often declared to others ; and perceiving 
he was speechless, requested him to give some sign, whereby they 
might know that he died in the steadfast belief and enjoyment 
of those gospel truths; and, likewise, of his comfortable assur- 
ance of a blissful immortality through Christ. On which, as if 
he had received fresh strength, he triumphantly lifted his hand 
toward heaven, and then quietly departed to the rest which re- 
maineth for the people of God, on November 24, 1572, about 
eleven o'clock at night, without huf convulsion or apparent 
suffering, but worn out with his extraordinary labours of body 
and mind. 

He was interred on the twenty-sixth, in the church-yard of St. 
Giles's, the corpse being attended by several lords who were 
then at Edinburgh. The earl of Morton, that day chosen re- 
gent, when Knox was laid in the grave, said, " There lies a man, 
who in his life never feared the face of a man, who hath been 
often threatened with dag and dagger, but yet hath ended his 
days in peace and honour. For God's providence watched over 
him in a special manner, when his very life was sought." 

The reader is now in possession of the principal circum- 
stances in the life and character of the great Scottish Reformer, 
and he may judge how far the delineation which is given by 
historians in general is correct. The world cannot love the 
devoted active followers of Christ, and that Knox was one of 
them cannot be denied. It is not intended to represent him 
as a faultless character, but those parts of his conduct which 
have been most frequently enlarged upon by his enemies, are 
mainly to be ascribed to the times in which he lived, and the 
peculiar circumstances in which he was placed. With respect 
to his temper and language, we may apply to Knox what 
Seckendorf lias said of Luther: "The assertions frequently 
made respecting him, show that the authors do not write a 
history, but a satire; and, according to the usual manner of 
sophists, would deduce most dreadful accusations from trifling 
and venial circumstances. But enough has been said respect- 
ing such charges, the grounds for wliich these censors think 
they have discovered in some free expressions; — but neither the 



Life. ,- 23 

whole nor the greater part of the writings of the Reformer, jus- 
tify the imputation of excessive bitterness or freedom. Many- 
words and much phraseology, which at this day would be 
accounted contumelious or objectionable, at that time were in 
common use, and could be uttered without impropriety, nor 
were tlie lighter expressions accounted incorrect." (Seek. iii. 
p. 643.) 

The public conduct of Knox cannot be fairly judged without 
full consideration of the characters amongst whom his lot was 
cast. It has been well inquired, what would the individuals 
who have been most admired in the present day have been able 
to effect in those times 1 Would they have done more than 
Erasmus performed in the days of Luther ? And what would 
have been the state of religion now — as far as human judgment 
can see — if individuals of a less decided temperament had under- 
taken the work ] 

To these observations, some of which have been suggested 
by Dr. M'Crie, we may add the following extract from his able 
and interesting life of Knox. " He thought only of advancing 
the glory of God, and promoting the welfare of his country. 
Intrepidity, a mind elevated above sordid views, indefatigable 
activity, and constancy which no disappointments could shake, 
eminently qualified him for the hazardous and difficult post 
which he occupied. His integrity was above the suspicion of 
corruption ; his firmness equally proof against the solicitations 
of friends, and the threats of enemies. The opinion which his 
countrymen entertained of his sagacity, as well as his honesty, 
is evident from the confidence which they reposed in him. The 
measures taken for advancing the Reformation were either 
adopted at his suggestion, or submitted to his advice, and we 
must pronounce them to have been as wisely planned as they 
were boldly executed. 

" His ministerial functions were discharged with the greatest 
assiduity, fidelity, and fervour. No avocation or infirmity pre- 
vented him from appearing in the pulpit. Preaching was an 
employment in which he delighted, and for which he was qua- 
lified by an extensive acquaintance with the scriptures, and the 
happy art of applying them in the most striking manner to the 
existing circumstances of the church, and of his hearers. His 
powers of alarming the conscience, and arousing the passions, 
have been frequently mentioned ; but he excelled also in offer- 
ing up the consolations of the gospel, and calming the breasts 
of those who were agitated with a sense of their sins. When he 
discoursed of the griefs and joys, the conflicts and triumphs, 
of genuine christians, he declared what he himself had known 
and felt. The letters which he wrote to his familiar acquaint- 
ances breathe the most ardent piety. The religious medita- 
tions in which he spent his last sickness were not confined to 
that period of his life ; they had been his habitual employment 



24 K710X. 

from the lime that he was brought to the knowledge of the 
truth, and his solace amidst all the hardships and perils through 
which he passed." 

The writings of Knox may be divided into four classes, 
1. Historical. This comprises his history of the Reformation in 
Scotland, which is a very valuable work, being written by one 
who lived amidst the scenes he describes, and who would not 
intentionally misrepresent, although, like every other man, he 
may sometimes have been mistaken. 

2. Admonitory. From the peculiar circumstances of the 
times in which Knox lived, these pieces contain much that has 
lost its interest at the present day. Only a part of them are 
included in the present collection. Those which are omitted, 
have however been frequently reprinted.* 

3. Devotional. These are not numerous, but the reader will 
regret they are not more so. They are among the most valua- 
ble productions of the British Reformers ; and having been writ- 
ten under severe trials, both mental and bodily, they come 
from the heart, and powerfully appeal to it. They are now 
for the first time republished, the former collections of his 
writings having only contained tJiose which more immediately 
related to his public life, so that the piety and christian feeling 
of Knox have been comparatively little known. 

4. Letters. Several which are included in the present vo- 
lume are now printed for the first time. For them the reader is 
indebted to Dr. M'Crie, who kmdly furnished copies from the 
manuscript volume of the Reformer's writings in his possession, 
which supplied such important materials for his life of Knox.f 
He also supplied from the same source, transcripts of several 
tracts now republished, by which many errors which had ap- 
peared in the hastily printed editions have been removed. In 
these letters of Knox, the reader will trace the same mind which 
actuated Bradford and his other brethren among the English 
Reformers, and there are few persons, who, after perusing the 
following pages, will not highly estimate the talents, piety, and 
christian zeal of this holy Reformer. 

* The writings of Knox not included, either wholly or in part in 
this collection, are. Copy of a letter to the queen regent in 155G. — 
The first blast of the trumpet ajjauist the monstrous regiment (govern- 
ment) of women. — Appellation of John Knox, with his supplication to 
the nobility, &c. — Kxhortation to England. — To the precedinij, which 
are printed with the editions of Knox's History, may be added, the 
Form of Excommunication, and the Treatise of Fasting, other pieces 
written for the general Assembly; also liis History of the Reformation 
of I{eligion withui the realm of Scotland. Manv letters written by 
Knox not included here, have been printed, but they chieHy relate to 
historical subjects. 

t Tiint valuable work hns supplied many particulars adverted to in 
this biograplucal sketch, but Dr. M'Cne's Life of John Knox is too 
well known, and too highly valued, to require any detailed notice in 
this place. 




X 



SOME PARTICULARS 

OP 

THE LIFE OF THOMAS BECON. 



Thomas Becon, or Beacon, was one of the most active of the 
English Reformers ; and by his writings he contributed much to 
the diffusion of the truth. He was born in Suffolk about a. d. 
1510, and was educated at Cambridge, where he took his 
bachelor's degree in 1530. The preaching of Latimer appears 
to have been very useful to him, and he became a zealous 
teacher of the gospel. On this account Becon was persecuted 
by the Romish clergy, and was apprehended by Bonner in 1544, 
when he was compelled to make a public recantation at Paul's 
Cross, and to burn his little treatises, which had attracted con- 
siderable notice. Some of them had been printed under the 
name of Theodore Basil,* and were prohibited in the procla- 
mation against heretical books, in July, 1546. 

Finding there was no safety for him in London or its vici- 
nity, Becon travelled into Staffordshire and Derbyshire, where 
he remained in seclusion until the accession of Edvi^ard VL 
During this interval " he educated children in good literature, 
and instilled into their minds the principles of christian doc- 
trine." But the account of Becon's proceedings at that period 
is best given in his own words, as related in his tract, " The 
Jewel of Joy." 

" What gentleness I found for my godly labours at the 
hands of some men in these parts ye know right well. There- 
fore when neither by speaking, nor by writing, I could do good, 
I thought it best not rashly to throw myself into the ravening 
paws of those greedy wolves, but for a certain space to absent 

* Becon had two sons, whom he named Theodore and Basil, probably 
from his having assumed that appellation. 



2 Becon. 

myself from their tyranny, according to the doctrine of the 
gospel. — Leaving mine own native country, I travelled into 
such strange places as were unknown to me, and I to them. 
And yet, I thank the Lord my God, who never leaveth his 
servants succourless, I, although an unprofitable servant, in 
that exile and banishment wanted no good thing. Let the 
voluptuous worldlings take thought for the belly, and be careful 
for this present life ; I have learned in that my journey to cast 
my care upon the Lord my God, who abundantly feedeth so 
many as trust in him, and depend on his liberality and good- 
ness. For one house I found twenty, and for one friend a 
hundred. I could wish nothing for the provision of this life, 
but I had it plenteously, God so caring for me, his unprofitable 
and wretched servant. 

" After I had taken leave of my most sweet mother, and my 
other dear friends, I travelled into Derbyshire, and from thence 
into the Peak, whither I appointed my books and my clothes 
to be brought. Mine intent was, by exercising the office of a 
schoolmaster, to engraft Christ and the knowledge of him, in 
the breasts of those scholars whom God should appoint unto 
me to be taught. — I found them of very good wits and apt 
understandings. — Coming to a little village, called Alsop in the 
dale, I chanced upon a certain gentleman, called Alsop, lord of 
that village, a man not only ancient in years, but also ripe in 
the knowledge of Christ's doctrine. After we had saluted each 
other, and taken a sufficient repast, he showed me certain 
books, which he called his jewels and principal treasures. — To 
repeat them all by name I am not able, but of this I am sure, 
that there was the New Testament after the translation of the 
godly learned man, Miles Coverdalc,* which seemed to be as 
well worn by the diligent reading thereof, as ever was any por- 
tass or mass book among the papists. — I remember he had 
many other godly books, as the Obedience of a Christian man, 
the Parable of the wicked Manmion, the Revelation of Anti- 
christ, the Sum of Holy Scripture, the book of John P'rith 
against Purgatory,! all the books published in the name of 
Theodore Basil, with divers other learned men's works. In 
these godly treatises this ancient gentleman, among the 

* The first testament printed in Kngliirh, about twenty years before the 
lime here referred to. 
t These were wiitings of Tindal and Frith. 



Life. 3 

mountains and rocks, occupied himself both diligently and vir- 
tuously. — But all the religion of the people consisted in hearing 
matins and masses, in superstitious worshipping of saints, in 
hiring soul carriers to sing trentals,* in pattering upon beads, 
and in such other popish pedlary. Yet the people where I have 
travelled, for the most part, are reasonable and quiet enough,f 
yea and very conformable to God's truth. If any be stubbornly 
obstinate, it is for want of knowledge, and because they have 
been seduced by blind guides. 

" While I was in the Peak I learned that Robert Wysdom 
was in Stafford shire. J He was the same to me as Aristarchus 
was to Paul. Desiring greatly to see him, I bade my friends 
in the Peak farewell, and made haste towards him. When I 
came to him, I not only rejoiced to see him in health, but also 
gave God thanks that he v/as so well placed and provided for. 
I found him in the house of a certain faithful brother, called 
John Old, a man old in name, yet young in years, and yet 
ancient in true godliness and christian life. He was to us as 
Jason was to Paul and Silas. He received us joyfully into 
his house, and liberally, for the Lord's sake, ministered all 
good things unto our necessities. And as he began, so he 
continued, a right hearty friend, and dearly loving brother, so 
long as we remained in that country. Even as blessed Paul 
wished to Onesiphorus, (2 Tim. i.) so wish I to him, and with 
the same words pray for him. The Lord grant to him that 
he may find mercy of the Lord in that day. After we had 
passed certain days in the house of that most loving brother 
refreshing ourselves with the comfort of the holy scriptures 
after so many grievous tempests, troublous storms, and 
painful labours, our dear brother Robert Wysdom was called 
away by letters, w^hich was to us no small pain and grief. 

* The Romish priests who repeated masses for thirty days, to deliver 
souls from purgatory. 

t The midland counties were not disturbed by the tumults excited 
by the Romish priests, in Norfolk and in the west and north of 
England. 

X Robert Wysdom, or Wisdom, was minister of St. Catherine's, in 
Lothbury, and a laborious preacher of the truth; he v/as compelled 
to recant, with Becon, in 1544. He wrote an exposition on the ten 
commandments, for which he was imprisoned in the Lollards' tower 
Several of the psalms and hymns of the old version were written by 
him. On the accession of queen Mary, he escaped to the continent 
and became archdeacon of Ely in the reign of Elizabeth. 



4 Becon. 

Notwithstanding, we submitted ourselves to the good pleasure 
of God, with this hope and comfort, that his return to his old 
familiars should be greatly to the advancement of God's glory, 
and to the quiet of his christian studies, whereof might spring 
hereaflerno small advantage to the christian public weal. And 
so we, wishing one another the assistance of God's Spirit, 
repentance of our former life, strength of faith, and persever- 
ance in all godliness to our last end, departed, yea, and that not 
without tears. — He was ever virtuously occupied, and suffered 
no hour to pass away without good fruit. He is a man in 
whom the fear of God reign eth unfeigned ly. 

" After his departure, according to my talent, I brought up 
youth in the knowledge of good literature, and instilled into 
their breasts the elements and principles of Christ's doctrine, 
teaching them to know their Lord and God, to believe in him, 
to fear and love him, and studiously to walk in his holy ways 
from their cradles, even to the yielding up of their last breath. 
I doubt not but Christ was so deeply graven in their hearts at 
that time, that he is not yet worn out, neither as I trust shall be 
60 long as they live.— The people were not in all points com- 
monly so superstitious as the people of the Peak, they savoured 
somewhat more of pure religion. This I think came to pass 
through certain English books that were among them, and 
through travellers to and from London. 

" After I had spent a year and somewhat more in that 
country, in the virtuous education and bringing up of youth, 
I departed into Warwickshire, where, in like mannef as before, 
I freely enjoyed the liberality of my sweet and dear friend, John 
Old, who, impelled by urgent causes, had removed into that 
country. There likewise I taught divers gentlemen's sons, who 
I trust, if they live, will be ornaments to the public weal of 
England, both for the preferment of true religion, and for the 
maintenance of justice. 

" I travelled in Derbyshire, in the Peak, in Staffordshire, and 
in Leicestershire, yet Warwickshire was to me the most dear 
and pleasant. In liCiccstershire — I pass over the other, I had 
acquaintance only with one learned man, a countryman of ours, 
called John Aylmer,* a master of arts of the university of 

* Aylmer was active in promoting the Reformation. lie was tutor 
m the family of the marquess of Dorset, who was afterwards duke of 



Life, 5 

Cambridge, a young man singularly well learned both in the 
Latin and Greek, teacher to the children of my lord marquis 
Dorset ; but Warwickshire ministered unto me the acquaint- 
ance and friendship of many learned men. 

"First comes to my remembrance master Latimer, a man 
worthy to be loved and reverenced by all true-hearted christian 
men, not only for the pureness of his life, which before the 
world hath always been innocent and blameless, but for the 
sincerity and goodness of his evangelical doctrine, which, since 
the beginning of his preaching, has in all points been so con- 
formable to the teaching of Christ and his apostles, that the 
very adversaries of God's truth, with all their menacing words, 
and cruel imprisonments, could not withdraw him from it. 
But whatsoever he had once preached, he valiantly defended 
the same before the world, without fear of any mortal creature, 
although of ever so great power or high authority ; wishing 
and minding rather to suffer, not only loss of worldly posses- 
sions, but also of life, than that the glory of God, or the truth 
of Christ's gospel, should in any point be obscured or defaced 
through him. His life was not dear unto him, so that he 
might fulfil his course with joy, and the office that he received 
of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of God's favour. He 
might well say with the holy psalmist, * I spake, O Lord, of thy 
testimonies and ordinances in the presence of kings, princes, 
and rulers, and I was not ashamed.' 

"His noble fame and virtuous renown is well known, not 
only in this realm of England, but also in foreign countries, 
among both learned and unlearned. I have known him twenty 
years ago, in the university of Cambridge ; to whom, next to 
God, I am most specially bound to give most hearty thanks for 
the knowledge, if I have any, of God and his most blessed word. 

" I was sometime a poor scholar of Cambridge ; very desirous 
to have the knowledge of good letters ; and in the time of my 
being there this godly man preached many learned and chris- 
tian sermons, both in Latin and English, at all of which for 
the most part I was present ; and although at the time I was 

Suffolk, the father of Lady Jane Grey. During the Marian persecution 
he took refuge on the continent, and was afterwards bishop of London. 
John Old was a teacher of youth, and vicar of Cobington, in War- 
wickshire. He was afterwards a prebendary of Hereford, and an exile 
for religion. 

BECON. 2 



6 Becon. 

but a child of sixteen years old, yet I noted his doctrine as 
well as I could, partly reposing it in my memory, partly com- 
mitting it to writing, as letters are the most faithful treasurers 
to the memory. 

" I was present when, with manifest authorities of God's 
word, and invincible arguments, besides the allegations of 
doctors, he proved in his sermons that the holy scriptures 
ought to be read in the English tongue by all christian people, 
whether they were priests or laymen, as they are called ; which 
divers drowsy dunces, with false flattering friars, could not 
abide, but openly in their unsavoury sermons resisted his godly 
purpose ; even as Alexander the coppersmith and Ely mas the 
sorcerer, with many others, resisted blessed Paul and his godly 
doctrine. Notwithstanding this, he, yea rather God in him, 
whose cause he handled, got the victory, and it came to pass 
according to his teaching. Neither was I absent when he 
inveighed against empty works, good intents, blind zeal, super- 
stitious devotion, &c. such as the painting of tabernacles,* 
gilding of images, setting upof candles, running on pilgrimages, 
and such other idle inventions of men, whereby the glory of 
God was obscured, and the works of mercy less regarded. 
I remember also how he was wont to rebuke the beneficed 
men with the authority of God's word, for neglecting and not 
teaching their flock, and for being absent from their cures ; 
they themselves being idle, and masting themselvesf like hogs 
of Epicurus's flock ; taking no thought though their poor pa- 
rishioners miserably pine away, starve, perish, and die for hun- 
ger. Neither have I forgotten how he, at that time, condemned 
foolish, ungodly, and impossible vows to be fulfilled, wishing 
rather that liberty of marriage might be granted to them which 
have so vowed, than so to continue through single life in all 
kind of abominble uncleanness. Oh how vehement was he in 
rebuking all sins, namely, idolatry, false and idle swearing, 
covetousnese, and licentious living ! Again, how sweet and 
pleasant were his words in exhorting unto virtue ! He spake 
nothing but it left, as it were certain stings in the hearts of the 
hearers which moved them to consent to his doctrine. None, 
except they were stifliiecked and uncircumcised in heart, went 

♦ RepoBitories for the consecrated wafers, 
t Swinishly filling tliemselves wirti acorns. 



Life. 7 

away from his sermons who were not led into a faithful repent- 
ance of their former lives, affected with high detestation of sin, 
and moved unto all godliness and virtue. I knew certain men 
who, by persuasion of their friends, went unto his sermons, 
swelling, blown full, and puffed up like unto Esop's frogs, with 
envy and malice against the preacher; but when they returned, 
the sermon being done, and were asked how they liked him 
and his doctrine, they answered with the priests and pharisees' 
servants, (John viii.) ' Never man spake like this man.' 

" So sharp a two-edged sword is the word of God, it enter- 
eth through, even unto the dividing of the soul and the spirit, 
and of the joints and the marrow. (Heb. iv.) So God watches 
over his word, so the Father of heaven causes his word not to 
return unto him void, but to do whatsoever his good pleasure 
is, and to take root and bring forth fruit in them that are 
before ordained unto everlasting life ; in some a hundred fold, 
in some threescore, in some thirty fold. I will not further 
report his freedom of speech against buying and selling of 
benefices, against the promoting unto livings of spiritual mi- 
nisters them which are unlearned and ignorant in the law of 
God, against popish pardons, against the reposing our hope in 
our own works or in other men's merits, against false religion, 
&c. Neither do I here relate how beneficial he was, according 
to his ability, to poor scholars and other needy people ; so con- 
formable was his life to his doctrine, so watered he with good 
deeds whatsoever he had planted with godly words. He so 
laboured earnestly both in word and deed to win and allure 
others unto the love of Christ's doctrine and his holy religion, 
that there is a common saying which remains unto this day, 
*When master Stafford read, and master Latimer preached, 
then was Cambridge blessed.' 

"That master George Stafford was a man whom the un- 
thankful world was unworthy any longer to have.* I pass over 

* George Stafford, or Stavert, was fellow of Pembroke-hall in 
Cambridge, a reader of divinity, who lectured on the scriptures. 
He was very attentive to his duties as a minister of the gospel. 
About 1528, there was one of great fame for his skill as a conjuror 
at Cambridge. This man fell sick of the plague. From compassion 
to his soul, Stafford ventured his own life by visiting him, and rea- 
soned with him upon his wicked life and practices till he was 
brought to repentance, and destroyed his books. Thus Stafford en- 
deavoured to save that man's soul, though he lost his own life by it, 



8 Becon, 

the gifts of nature, and such goodly qualities as win unto them 
that have them the favour and commendation of men ; where- 
with he was plenteously endued, and this I unfeignedly say unto 
you : he was a man of a very perfect life, and, if I may so 
speak, of an angelic conversation, approvedly learned in the 
Hebrew, Greek, and Latin tongues, and such a one as had, 
through his painful labours, obtained singular knowledge in the 
mysteries of God's most blessed word. 

" By his industry, labour, pains, and diligence, he seemed of 
a dead man to make blessed Paul alive again ; and putting 
away all unseemliness, set him forth in his native colours, so 
that now he is both seen, read, and heard with great pleasure 
by them that labour in the study of his most godly epistles. 
And as he beautified the letters of blessed Paul with his godly 
expositions, so likewise he learnedly set forth in his lectures, 
the native sense and true understanding of the four evangelists ; 
restoring unto us in a lively manner the apostle's mind, and the 
mind of those holy writers, which so many years before had 
laid unknown and obscured through the darkness and mists 
of the Pharisees and papists. 

*' He was a faithful and prudent servant, giving meat to the 
Lord's household in due time. He cast away profane and old 
wives' fables, and as the good servant of Jesus Christ, he ex- 
ercised himself unto godliness. He was an example to the 
faithful in word, in conversation, in love, in spirit, in faith, in 
purity. He gave his mind to reading, to exhorting, to doctrine. 
He studied to show himself unto God a laudable workman that 
needeth not to be ashamed, dividing the word of truth justly. 
He was gentle unto every man, and with meekness informed 
them that resisted the truth, if God at any time would give 
them repentance for to know the truth, and to turn again from 
the snare of the devil. He fought a good fight, he ftilfilled his 
course, he kept the faith : therefore is there laid up for him a 
crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, 
shall give him in that day, and not to him only, but to all them 
that love His coming. 

** With master Latimer, that true preacher of God's word, I 
was somewhat acquainted in Warwickshire, which was to me 

for he i^ot the infection, wejit home, nnd died. Fox relates this on 
the authority of bishops Ridley and Griiidal. 



Life, 9 

no small comfort ; not with him only, but with divers others, 
whereof some were men of worship, well inclined towards the 
holy scriptures; some were men very godly learned in the laws 
of the Most High, and professors of the same. So oft as I 
was in their company, methought I was clearly delivered from 
Egypt, and quietly placed in the glorious New Jerusalem, which 
is described in the revelation of blessed John : so sweet a thing 
is it to be in the company of godly learned men. 

" While I was training up youth, and fashioning their minds 
unto true godliness in that country, behold, unexpected letters 
were sent to me from my most dear mother ; in which she re- 
quired me to return to my native country, and to be a staff of 
her old age, as my father-in-law was departed from this vale of 
misery. Considering my duty, and the honour which I owe 
unto her by the manifest commandment of God, I immediately 
after, not without the friendly consent of my well willers, de- 
parted from Warwickshire, and with all haste repaired home. 

" In this my long absence I wrote divers treatises, but as 
yet three only are published. The Governance of Virtue, an 
Invective against Whoredom, and a Dialogue of Christ's 
Nativity, between the angel and the shepherds. The others 
shall be set forth, if the Lord will, hereafter at a convenient 
time. I translated out of Latin into English, divers little trea- 
tises, — The Shield of Salvation, The Solace of the Soul, The 
Commendation of Death, &c."* 

This extract is long, but the reader will hardly fail to be in- 
terested with its contents, which present some valuable delinea- 
tions of the state of England in the early days of the Refor- 
mation. At that time many of the inland secluded districts 
were scarcely accessible to travellers, and far less known to the 
inhabitants of the southern counties than some parts of the 
continent. We cannot help regretting that the author has not 
lefl us a full delineation of his life from his own pen. The par- 
ticulars respecting himself and his contemporaries which such a 

* In the Jewel of Joy, the foregoing particulars are communicated 
in a dialogue between Philemon, (Becon himself,) and some friends, 
to whom he relates what had befallen him. A part of Latimer's 
character is put into the mouth of one of the other speakers; but 
it is evident that Becon himself is describing his own personal inter- 
course with that venerable father. As the dialogue contains much ex- 
traneous matter, it seemed desirable to condense the above extract in 
Becon's own words. 

2* 



10 Becon, 

narrative would have contained, would have made it on*^ of 
the most valuable pieces of the reformers. 

When Edward VI. came to the throne, the people of Can- 
terbury were particularly opposed to the Reformation. This in- 
duced Cranmer to place in that city six preachers, distinguished 
for their piety and learning^. Becon was one of them, and from 
the numerous sufferers for the truth among the inhabitants 
during the reign of queen Mary, their labours appear to have 
been made useful to many. Becon was also chaplain to the 
protector Somerset, and for some time an inmate in his family 
at Sheen. Of the death of this distinguished nobleman, and 
some other events of that period, Becon spoke thus in his 
epistle to the persecuted sufferers for the gospel in England : 
" We had divers signs long before, besides the godly admoni- 
tions of the faithful preachers, which plainly declared unto us 
an utter subversion of the true christian religion to be at 
hand, except it were prevented by speedy and hearty repent- 
ance. What shall I speak of that godly and mighty prince, 
Edward, duke of Somerset, who, in the time of his protector- 
ship, so banished idolatry out of this our realm, and brought 
in again God's true religion, that it was wonder so mighty a 
matter should have been brought to pass in so short a time. 
Was not the ungentle handling of him, and the unrighteous 
thrusting him out of office, and afterwards the cruel murdering 
of him, a man, yea, a mirror of true innocency and christian 
patience, an evident token of God's anger against us 1 The 
sudden taking away of those most godly and virtuous youths, 
the duke of Suffolk and his brother, by the sweating sickness, 
was it not also a manifest token of God's heavy displeasure 
toward us] The death of those two most worthy and godly 
learned men, I speak of Paulus Fagius and Martin Bucer, was 
it not a sure prognostication of some great mishap concerning 
the christian religion to be at hand 1 But I may pass over many 
others and at the last come unto that which is most lament- 
able, and can never be remembered by any true English heart 
without large tears ; I mean the death of our most godly prince 
and christian king, Edward the sixtli ; that true Josiah, that 
earnest destroyer of false religion, that fervent setter up of God's 
true honour, that most bounteous patron of the godly learned, 
that most worthy maintainerof good letters and virtue, and that 



Life. 11 

perfect and lively mirror of true nobility and sincere godliness 
— was not the taking away of him (alas for sorrow !) a sure sign 
and an evident token that some great evil hung over this realm 
of England!" 

That Becon was an eminent preacher of the reformed doc- 
trines appears from his having been committed to the Tower, 
with Bradford and Veron, within a fortnight after the accession 
of queen Mary. He was at that time rector of St. Stephen's, 
Walbrook, in the city of London. After a severe imprisonment 
of seven months, he was released, but was deprived of his 
living by the early proceedings of the queen against the married 
clergy; it is indeed most surprising tKat he should have been 
liberated, while many persons far less distinguished as preachers 
of the truth, were detained in prison under different pretences 
until popery w^as fully restored, when they were burned. These 
early proceedings, however, warned him of his danger, and 
after remaining in concealment for some time, he escaped to the 
continent, where he continued till the death of queen Mary — he 
was, to use Strype's expression, " a man mightily tossed about." 

Becon's writings were included by name in the proclamation 
of Philip and Mary against the writings of the principal re- 
formers, and many copies doubtless were destroyed. While 
upon the continent he was not idle, but wrote several of his 
tracts. In an epistle to the persecuted brethren in England, he 
directed them to their only refuge and deliverer ; it was read in 
the private meetings of the protestants, and, with similar writ- 
ings of other reformers, imparted edification and comfort to many. 

In the preface wTitten in 1563, Becon says, " The cross of 
Christ v/as laid upon the true christians of this realm not many 
years past, so that divers of our countrymen were most griev- 
ously persecuted, most cruelly apprehended, imprisoned, stocked, 
chained, manacled, brought forth, accused, condemned, and 
burnt to ashes. Divers were secretly famished, and murdered 
in prison, spoiled of all their goods, exiled and banished into 
strange countries. — I, at that time being partaker of exile and 
banishment, after long and that most miserable imprisonment, 
(to let pass my other afflictions, wherewith I was daily encum- 
bered, besides the deceitful assaults of satan and his ministers, 
wherewith I was without ceasing troubled and disquieted, not 
only outwardly, but also inwardly,) oftentimes called unto 



12 Becon. 

remembrance the most wretched and pitiful state of England, 
sometime flowing with the knowledge of God's word, as the sea 
with waters, but then wrapped full of blind ignorance and igno- 
rant blindness, I considered with myself what I might do to 
help the miseries of my poor countrymen, especially such as 
were afflicted for the gospel's sake. Not knowing how other- 
wise to gratify them, I wrote an epistle and sent it to certain 
godly brethren, declaring in it the causes of all the miseries and 
calamities which were fallen upon England : again, how they 
might be redressed ; and finally, what a merciful Lord our God 
is to all faithful penitent sinners that unfeignedly turn unto him. 
This epistle was not read of the brethren without fruit. I added 
a humble supplication unto God for the restoring of his holy 
word unto the church of England, wherein the devout christian 
complains his grief and sorrow unto the Lord for taking away 
the light of Christ's gospel, and most humbly acknowledging 
his fault and deserved punishment, most heartily wishes for the 
subversion of Antichrist's kingdom, and the restitution of Christ's 
most glorious kingdom to the realm of England." 

At this period several of Becon's tracts relative to the 
Romish controversy were written ; among them an epistle to 
the popish priests, showing the difference between the Lord's 
Supper and the mass, which he declares to be " a wicked idol." 

When queen Elizabeth came to the throne, Becon returned 
to England, and again laboured zealously and successfully to 
promote the truth. In 1560, he was appointed to the rectory 
of Buckland, in Hertfordshire, and subsequently to that of 
Christ Church, Newgate, which he afterwards resigned ; and in 
1563, was appointed to the living of Dionis Backchurch, in 
London. liike many of the exiles and most excellent cha- 
racters of that day, he desired that greater liberty as to uni- 
formity should be permitted than was then allowed ; and he 
was one of the large minority in the convocation, which sup- 
ported a petition for greater freedom with respect to some rites 
and ceremonies.* 

In January 1564 — 5, the clergy of London attended at Lam- 
beth : they were required to subscribe to the recent ecclesias- 
tical regulations, but several declined. Strype relates in his 

* See Strype'g Annala. Fifty-eight, including proxies. Ripportcd the 
petition, fift>'-ninc opposed it ; the mnjority of the individuals present 
voted for it. 



Life. 13 

life of Grindal, "Many upon this were sequestered, and after- 
wards some deposed and deprived — Whittingham and Becon 
refused at first, but afterwards subscribed and were preferred." 
It does not clearly appear what preferment he obtained after 
this ; but he was appointed to preach at Paul's cross in the fol- 
lowing year, and the lord mayor petitioned archbishop Parker, 
requesting his grace to prevail upon Becon to preach one of the 
Spital Sermons. After this time he seems to have resided 
chiefly at Canterbury, where he held a prebend, and from 
whence he dated the preface to his collected works, and to his 
Postills, or plain sermons upon the gospels appointed to be 
read throughout the year. In that city he died about 1567. 

Becon was one of the most laborious and useful writers and 
preachers among the British reformers. His publications ex- 
ceed forty in number ; some are of considerable length. The 
earliest was printed in 1541, and the latest in 1566. They em- 
brace a much wider range of subjects than the works of any 
other writer of that day. Several of them are upon the Romish 
controversy, and manifest a thorough knowledge of the subject, 
but the greater part of them do not directly relate thereto. 
Their contents are also exceedingly scriptural ; frequently for 
pages together, they exhibit a collection of passages from holy 
writ, illustrating in a very striking manner the subjects upon 
which the author is treating. All the reformers were " mighty 
in the scriptures," but Becon, especially, " abounded" therein. 

Most of his publications were originally printed as separate 
tracts, and widely circulated in that form. Day, the printer, 
in 1549, applied for a license, which was granted, authorizing him 
to reprint all the writings of Becon, which evidently shows that 
the demand for them was considerable. A uniform and corrected 
edition of his works was printed in 1564 under his own superin- 
tendence, dedicated to the archbishops and bishops of the realm. 
They form three volumes in folio, and are now among the scarcest 
of the writings of the Elizabethan reformers. Few of them have 
been reprinted since that time ; and the numerous and excellent 
writings of this pious and learned divine have been suffered to 
fall into unmerited oblivion, although highly commended by- 
archbishop Parker and other writers. 

The most complete list of Becon's work^ which can be ascer- 
tained, is as follows : — 



14 Becon, 

1. News from Heaven. 2. The Christmas Banquet. 3. A 
Potation for Lent. 4. The pathway to Prayer. 5. A pleasant 
Nosegay. 6. The Policy of War. 7. David's Harp newly 
stringed ; an exposition on Psalm cxv. 8. A New Year's Gift. 
9. An Invective against Swearing. 10. The Governance of 
Virtue. 11. A new Catechism. 12. Preface to the book of 
Christian Matrimony. 13. The Jewel of Joy. 14. The Prin- 
ciples of the Christian Religion. 15. A Treatise of Fasting. 
16. The Castle of Comfort. 17. The Solace of the Soul. 18. 
The Fortress of the Faithful. 19. The Christian Knight. 20. 
Homily against Whoredom. 21. The Flower of godly Prayers. 
22. The Pomander of Prayer. 23. The Sick Man's Salve. 
24. Dialogue between the Angel and the Shepherds. 25. An In- 
vective against Whoredom. 26. A comfortable Epistle to the 
afflicted People of God. 27. A Supplication unto God for 
restoring of his holy Word. 28. The displaying of the Popish 
Mass. 29. Common-places of the Holy Scripture. 30. Com- 
parison between the Lord's Supper and the Pope's Mass. 31. 
Proofs from the Fathers against the popish errors relative to 
the Sacrament. 32. The monstrous Merchandise of the 
Romish Bishops. 33. The Reliques of Rome. 34. The di- 
versity between God's word and man's invention. 35. The 
Acts of Christ and antichrist. 36. Christ's Chronicle. 37. 
The Summary of the New Testament. 38. The Demands of 
the Holy Scripture. 39. The glorious Triumph of God's 
blessed Word. 40. The praise of Death. 41. Postills, or Ser- 
mons upon the Gospels for the Sundays and Holy Days through- 
out the year. There are a few other pieces ascribed to Becon, 
and some translations. He also assisted in the Bishop's Bible. 

Only a small part of Becon's writings could be included in 
the present collection — a preference therefore has been given 
to those which are upon the subjects the least noticed by other 
reformers. Some omissions have been made where Becon 
was unnecessarily diffuse. To each of his tracts is prefixed a 
short preface or epistle, addressed to some individual of note 
at that period ; a few of these have been retained. 

Such is a brief sketch of this excellent reformer, who was 
"justly celebrated for his great learning, his frequent preaching, 
his manifold sermons and excellent writings" — whereby he 

DEINO DEAD YET 8PEAKETU. 



I 




• fttrr3-e<ih JSarftzr 



LIFE OF JOHN JEWELL, 

Bishop of Salisbury. 



John Jeweli* was born May 24th, 1522, at Buden, in the par- 
ish of Berry Nerber, in the north of Devonshire. His father 
was of an ancient family, but not wealthy, and having ten 
children, John, the youngest son, was indebted in early life to 
some benevolent friends for the assistance which enabled him to 
pursue his studies. He received the rudiments of education at 
several schools ; in the last of these, Barnstaple, he had for his 
school-fellow Harding, who afterwards was his most zealous 
and bitter antagonist. 

Jewell was of an amiable disposition ; at an early age he 
gave indications of great talent, and an earnest desire for know- 
ledge. When thirteen, he was entered at Merton college in 
Oxford, where his first tutor was a Mr. Burrey, "a man meanly 
learned, and somewhat tainted with popery." This tutor having 
another pupil, committed Jewell to the care of Parkhurst, after- 
wards bishop of Norwich, then of Merton college, " who 
being desirous, with all other wholesome learning, to season his 
tender years with pure religion, took occasion often before him 
to dispute with Burrey about controverted points ; and intending 
to compare the translations of the bible by Coverdale and Tin- 
dal, gave him Tindal's to read, himself overlooking Coverdale's. 
Thus he early brought his pupil to a close acquaintance with 
the scriptures. During this collation, Parkhurst observed such 
indication of talent in Jewell, that he exclaimed, " Surely, Paul's 
cross will one day ring of this boy," a presage which was fully 
realized in the event. 

While Jewell was at Merton college the plague broke out at 
Oxford, in consequence of which he removed to Croxham, 
where, by lodging in a low, damp room, and pursuing his studies 
in the night with too much ardour, he caught a cold, which 
settled in his limbs, and affected him with a lameness that 
attended him to hjs grave. In August, 1539, by the interest of 
his friends, he was removed to Corpus Christi college, where he 
met with encouragement, but also experienced the effects of 
envy from some of his fellows, who often suppressed his exer- 
cises, substituting others more resembling their own. In 
October 1540, Jewell took his first degree with very great 
applause. He continued to prosecute his studies with increased 
vigour, beginning at four in the morning, and continuing till 
ten at night, needing some person to remind him of his neces- 
sary food. His reputation for learning was such, that Mr. 
Parkhurst committed his own son to the care of his former 
pupil for a time, till Series, vicar of St. Peter's, Oxford, a 

1 



2 Jewell. — Life. 

zealous enemy to all innovation, succeeded in separating them. 
We are told that he was alarmed at Jewell's desiorn to instruct 
his pupil in Greek, the study of which was then considered 
almost a certain proof of heresy. The college appointed Jewell 
reader of humanity and rhetoric, which duty he discharged with 
much ability ; but his example taught far more than any pre- 
cept. He read many ancient authors, and was accustomed to 
write something every day, often saying, "Men acquired learning 
more by frequently exercising their pens, than by reading many 
books." He endeavoured to express himself with fluency, 
neatness, and force of argument, rather than by flowery expres- 
sions, or well turned periods. " His only recreations from study 
were studious," his time being spent either in giving instruction, 
disputations, or in meditating upon what he had learned. 

In 1544, Jewell commenced master of arts, the expense being 
defrayed by Parkhurst who then held the valuable rectory of 
Cleve, in Gloucestershire. He often invited Jewell and other 
scholars to his house, where he entertained them liberally, and 
seldom dismissed them without presents. One time especially, 
he came into their chamber early in the morning, and seizing 
their purses said, *'What money, I wonder, have these miser- 
able beggarly Oxonians." Finding them " pitifully lean and 
empty, he stuffed them with money till they became both fit 
and weighty." 

After the accession of Edward VI. the Reformation proceeded 
more regularly, and with greater rapidity. Peter Martyr was 
invited from Germany, and settled as professor of divinity at 
Oxford. Jewell profited much by this appointment, and w^th 
the help of short-hand characters, which he invented, w^as able 
to take down nearly the whole of the lectures. In May, 1549, 
Martyr was interrupted in his lectures by Dr. Smith, a bigoted 
papist; a tumult arose, and Martyr challenged Smith to a 
regular public disputation. Smith, however, fled to Scotland, 
but some other popish doctors accepted the challenge, and a 
sharp disputation ensued respecting the Lord's Supper. It was 
conducted with some regularity ; being committed to writing 
by Jewell, it was afterwards published, and is appended to the 
English translation of Martyr's Common Places. It has also 
been printed by Fox, and in other forms. 

In 1551, Jewell took his degree of bachelor of divinity, when 
he preached a Latin sermon, from 1 Peter, iv. 11. " If any man 
speak, let him speak as the oracles of God," &c. At this time 
he took a small living near Oxford, called Sunningwell, more 
from a desire to do good than for the salary, which was but 
small. He walked thither once a fortnight, on foot, though 
with some difficulty, from his lameness. He also preached 
publicly and privately, both in his own college and in the 
university. His abilities now procured him many friends, one 
f>f whom named Curtop, a fellow of his own college, allowed 
him forty shillings a year, then a considerable sum. Another 



His abilities and progress at the university, 3 

person named Chamber^, who was intrusted with the distribu- 
tion of moneys collected in London to assist poor scholars 
allowed him six pounds a year for the purchase of books. 

These " halcyon days of peace " were soon terminated. 
Jewell was one of the first who felt the effects of the accession 
of Queen Mary, being expelled from his college by the fellows, 
upon their own authority, before the laws were passed for the 
restoration of popery. The charges against him were, 1. That 
he was a follower of Peter Martyr. 2. That he had preached 
contrary to popery. 3. That he had taken orders according to 
the recent laws ; which, however, still remained in force. His 
principal offence in reality appears to have been, his refusal to 
be present at the mass. That Jewell's character and conduct 
were blameless appears from the testimony of Morwen, the pres- 
ident of the college, who said, " I should love thee, Jewell, if 
thou wert not a Zuinglian. In thy faith I hold thee a heretic, 
but surely in thy life thou art an angel ! Thou art very good 
and honest, but a Lutheran !" A stronger commendation 
cannot be desired. It is probable that some personal feeling 
occasioned this prompt expulsion of Jewell. Dr. Morwen, and 
two of the fellows, had been suspended and imprisoned for a 
short time in 1552, by order of the council, for not using the 
protestant service book. During their suspension Jewell was 
appointed to govern the college. 

The following is a translation of Jewell's farew^ell : — 
" In my last lectures I have imitated the custom of famished 
men, who when they see their meat likely to be suddenly and 
unexpectedly snatched from them, devour it v/ith the greater 
haste and greediness. For whereas I intended thus to put an 
end to my lectures, and perceived that I was like forthwith to 
be silenced, I made no scruple to entertain you, contrary to my 
former usage, with much unpleasant and ill prepared discourse ; 
for I have incurred, 1 see, the displeasure and hatred of some, 
but whether deservedly or no, I leave to their consideration. 
This I am sure of, that those who have driven me from hence, 
would not suffer me to live any where if it were in their power. 
But as for me, I yield to the times, and if they can derive any 
delight to themselves from my calamity, I hinder them not from 
it. But as Aristides, when he went into exile and forsook his 
country, prayed that they might nevermore think of him ; so I 
beseech God to grant the same to my fellow-collegians, and 
what can they wish for more 1 Pardon me, my hearers, if it 
grieve me thus to be torn against my will from that place, where 
I have passed the first part of my life, where I have lived 
pleasantly, and have been in some honour and employment. 
But why do I thus delay to put an end to my misery by one 
word] Wo is me, — with my extreme sorrow I at last speak it — 
that I must say, Farewell my studies, farewell to these houses, 
farewell thou pleasant seat of learning, farewell to delightful 
conversation with you, farewell young men, farewell lads, fare- 



4 Jewell. — Life, 

well fellows, farewell brethren, farewell ye beloved as my own 
eyesight, farewell all — Farewell." 

Jewell was now reduced to poverty and distress, but for a time 
found shelter in Broadgate Hall, where many scholars resorted 
to him, and the society, by which he had been expelled, began 
to lament his loss. Of this they were reminded by Dr. Wright, 
archdeacon of Oxford, who when the deacon bragged that their 
college alone had kept their treasure and Romish ornaments 
during the late reigns, told them they had done so indeed, but, 
they had lost a jewel far more precious than any they had pre- 
served. 

By the influence of some friends, Jewell was appointed orator 
to the university. In this capacity he was soon after called to 
write a congratulatory address to the new queen. In expressing 
it he imitated the sentiments of the Roman Senators on the death 
of Augustus, and the accession of Tiberius.* He managed this 
with much ability, alluding also to the queen's promise to the 
men of Norfolk and Suffolk, that she would not change the 
religion established by the late king. It is recorded, that while 
Jewell was reciting this address to Dr. Tresham, the vice 
chancellor, the great bell of Christ Church, which the latter had 
caused to be re-cast, and had christened a few days before, ac- 
cording to the popish ritual, by the name of Mary, began to toll. 
Hearing this call to his beloved mass, the doctor exclaimed, "O 
delicate and sweet harmony, O beautiful Mary, how musically 
she sounds, how strangely she pleases my ears!" and Jew-elTs 
pen w^as forced to give place to the tinkling of this new lady.f 
Jewell, about this time, was one of the notaries appointed to 
assist Cranmer at his trial. 

In these difficulties, Jewell went on foot to Cleve, to obtain 
Parkhurst's advice and assistance, but found he had left the 
country on the restoration of the mass. Poor Jewell was forced 
to return to Oxford, where he arrived almost dead from the 
fatigue of a long journey on foot, in bitter cold and snowy 
weather. 

Two short letters, written by Jewell to his tutor Parkhurst, 
soon after the accession of Queen Mary, when the latter had 
been deprived of his benefice, and was in concealment, may in- 
terest the reader. The originals are in Latin ; the first was dated 
October 15. " My Parkhurst, mine own Parkliurst, what may 
I suppose that you are doing at the present time. Are you 
dead or alive ? Are you weeping (in fletu) or in the Fleet (flelo,)| 

* Skilfully uniting conjxratulations with expressions of regret. 

t We learn from Fox that anioncj otlier inducements to Persuade his 
students to r<'turn to popery, Tresham promised them a valuable set of 
popish vestments, and *' the lady bell of Bainpton, which should make the 
Bwcctcst rinij in Knijjland." 

t The Klret prison, when^ numy of the protestant ministers already 
were confined. This sort of play upon words was then common, even 
m tlic most serious compositions. 



Persecuted by the Papists, 5 

Assuredly, the equanimity of your mind ever was such that I 
cannot doubt but you account all these afflictions, whatever they 
are, as for good. — News with us there is none. Of old things 
there is too much. Unless it be troublesome to you, write I 
beseech you what is become of Harley,* how your own affairs 
stand, what you hope, and what you fear." 

In another letter, dated 22d October, he writes, " Parkhurst, 
what shall I now write to you, or rather why should I be silent 1 
Ihave now for a considerable time desired to know what you 
are doing, what you have done, and where you are. Although 
Cleve be taken from you, and all other matters are changed, 
yet I trust that your mind can neither be taken away nor 
changed." 

Jewell's adversaries now combined to effect his destruction. 
Marshall, dean of Christ Church, who had changed his religion 
twice already, and did so again afterwards, felt Jewell's conduct 
to be a reproof to himself, and by the newly appointed inquisi- 
tors, sent a list of popish doctrines to v/hich he was commanded 
to subscribe, upon pain of suffering the penalties of heresy. 
Jewell, " brought into such straits, having no other counsellors 
in this heavy encounter than horror without, and frailty with- 
in," being allowed no time or opportunity to consult his friends, 
or to consider the subject, took the pen, and saying, "Have you 
a mind to see how well I can write 1" hastily subscribed his 
name in St. Mary's Church. But this did not mitigate the rage 
of his enemies. They knew his affection for Peter Martyr, and 
would be satisfied by nothing but his life. Jewell's case was 
now most lamentable, his friends forsook him on account of his 
sinful compliance, while his enemies pursued him like a wounded 
deer. In a critical moment he resolved to flee for his life. 
This resolution was taken just in time. Had he remained in 
Oxford another night, he would not have been suffered to 
escape, or had he followed the direct road to London, he would 
have been overtaken and brought back ! But he missed his 
road, so that the pursuers were disappointed. He was found 
by Augustine Bernher, Latimer's faithful friend and attendant, 
lying upon the ground, almost dead with vexation, weariness, 
and cold. Bernher set him upon his own horse, and conveyed 
him to Mrs. Warcup, who was a zealous friend to the protest- 
ants, and to whom several of the letters of the martyrs are ad- 
dressed. She entertained Jewell for a time, and then had him 
conducted in safety to London, where he lay concealed until he 
escaped to the continent by the assistance of sir Nicholas 
Throgmorton, who supplied him with money, and procured him 
a passage. 

Jewell arrived in safety at Frankfort, where he found several 
of his former friends, and other protestant exiles, by whom he 

* Bishop of Hereford ; he was deprived, and lived in concealment. 
He died near the end of Queen Mary's reign. 

Jewell. 2 



6 Jewell. — Life. 

was received with much kindness. They rejoiced at his coming", 
which was unlocked for on account of his subscription to the 
doctrines of popery. They advised him publicly to confess his 
error ; this he did openly before the congregation on the next 
Lord's day, after preaching a most excellent sermon, saying, 
"It was my abject and cowardly mind, and faint heart, that 
made my weak hand commit this wickedness." Having uttered 
these words with many tears, he offered up a fervent prayer to 
God almighty for his pardon, and afterwards besought the for- 
giveness of the church. All present were deeply affected, 
and ever afterwards esteemed him the more for his ingenuous 
repentance. 

His biographer observes, " It is an easy thing for those that 
were never tried, to censure the frailty of those who have 
truckled for some time under the shock of a mighty temptation ; 
but let such remember St. Paul's advice, 'Let him that standeth 
take heed lest he fall.' This great man's fall shall ever be my 
lesson, and if this glistening jewel were thus clouded and foiled, 
God be merciful to me a sinner." 

Jewell had not been long at Frankfort when he was invited 
by Peter Martyr to come to him at Strasburg. Martyr was 
then settled there, having with some difficulty obtained permis- 
sion to withdraw to the continent. Many at Oxford desired to 
proceed against him, but he had been invited to England upon 
the public faith. The restoration of popery pained him very 
deeply ; hearing the students called to mass, and the tinkling of 
the sacring bell, used in that service, he exclaimed, with a sigh 
"That little bell overturns all my instructions." Four years 
afterwards the remains of Martyr's wife were taken from the 
grave by order of Cardinal Pole, at the procurement of Dr. 
Marshall, and buried in a dunghill !"* 

Martyr felt much esteem for Jewell, and, having persuaded 
him to come to Strasburg, kept him as an inmate in his family. 
Jewell was serviceable in the preparation of Martyr's comment 
on the book of Judges, and was accustomed to read to him 
every day from the fathers, particularly Augustine, with whose 
works they both were much delighted. Grindal, Ponet, Sandys, 
and other eminent English protestant divines, then resided at 
Strasburg. 

At this time Martyr was invited by the senate of Zurich to 
fill the office of Hebrew professor and expositor of scripture. 
He was accompanied by Jewell, who found Pilkington and 
several more of his exiled countrymen residing there. These 
exiles found a kinder reception among the Helvetian divines 
than among the Lutherans. The painful disputes respecting 
the sacrament had so embittered the minds of the latter, that 

* Aftor thf Qcr.pssion of Queen Elizabeth, they were restored to a 
more honorable place of sepulture, and mixed with the remains of St. 
Frideswide, that if popery were again restored, they might be secure from 
insult. 



His exile and return, 7 

they treated the English exiles with much harshness, notwith- 
standing the interference of Melancthon in their favor. Those 
in Switzerland were chiefly supported by some London mer- 
chants, till Gardiner discovered their benefactors, whom he 
fined and punished, threatening that he would soon " make the 
exiles eat their fingers' ends tor hunger ;" this fate was, how- 
ever, averted by the liberality of those who had afforded them 
protection. At this time Jewell appears to have visited Italy, 
and at Padua he contracted a friendship with Scipio, a gentle- 
man of Venice, to whom he afterwards wrote respecting the 
council of Trent. During the four years of his exile, Jewell 
studied diligently, and consoled his companions ; often saying, 
that while their brethren at home endured such bitter tortures 
and horrid martyrdoms, they could not reasonably expect to be 
at ease: but concluding always, "These things v/ill not last 
for an age."" When the troubles arose at Frankfort respecting 
the use of the English liturgy, Jewell endeavored to promote 
peace, though without success. 

Queen Mary died on the 17th November, 1558, when Jewell 
and other English exiles hastened home. On their arrival they 
found affairs in much disorder, but tending rapidly to a revival 
of the reformation. 

Without entering minutely into the history of that period, it 
may be stated, that during the life of her sister, Elizabeth had 
conformed outwardly to the Romish religion : but her attach- 
ment to the protestant faith was so well known that several 
attempts had been made by the bigoted Romanists to procure her 
death. She was preserved chiefly by the interference of king 
Philip, actuated by political considerations. The tidings of 
Mary's death, and the accession of Elizabeth, were received 
with a general demonstration of joy. On her approach to 
London she was met by the Romish bishops, whom she received 
with courtesy, excepting Bonner, from whom she turned with 
disgust. Elizabeth's situation was difficult. In natural dispo- 
sition she resembled her father in many points, and would have 
been unwilling to submit to the usurpations of the popedom, 
even if the fate of her mother, and her own sufferings from the 
papists, had not been sufficient to give her an abhorrence of 
popery. But her feelings on the subject of religion were dif- 
ferent from those of her pious brother. Elizabeth's judgment 
gave preference to the reformed faith, but she does not appear 
to have experienced that change of heart which he manifested. 
Her views therefore, were not so simple, nor her proceedings so 
decided, as the real followers of the truth desired. She had a 
strong regard for many points of a ceremonial nature main- 
tained by the church of Rome, and she might have inclined to 
favour its principles still more, had not the pope expressed him- 
self with much violence on being informed of her accession. 
He told the English resident at Rome that England was a de- 
pendence upon the Romish see ; that, being illegitimate, Eliza- 



8 Jewell, — Life. 

beth could not succeed to the crown, that she deserved no favour 
from him ; but if she would renounce her pretensions and refer 
the matter wholly to him, he would act towards her with 
fatherly affection, and would be as favorable as the dignity of the 
apostolic see permitted ! Elizabeth and her councillors imme- 
diately broke off all intercourse with the court of Rome. In 
this affair, as in the papal proceedino^s towards Henry VII[., the 
reformation was facilitated by the conduct of the pontiffs them- 
selves. Neither Elizabeth nor her father could brook the papal 
usurpations. 

The persecutions were stopped immediately after the acces- 
sion of Elizabeth, and the prisoners in confinement were speed- 
ily released. The exiles soon began to arrive, their brethren 
who had remained concealed came forward, and the doctrines 
of truth were again publicly set forth. But as the Romanists 
did not willingly relinquish their power much confusion pre- 
vailed. To prevent evil consequences, silence was imposed 
for a short time upon the divines of both parties, and some of 
the most bigoted papists, who endeavored to excite tumults, 
were imprisoned. The reformation now proceeded under the 
direction of the queen and the parliament ; the authority of the 
pope was renounced, the persecuting statutes were repealed, 
and protestantism again became the religion of the land, for 
which succeeding generations are indebted to Elizabeth as the 
instrument. Many circumstances made it easier for her to 
pursue a different course ; and, though she cannot be delineated 
as a follower of Christ, there is much cause for thankfulness 
that she was a protestant upon principle. As such, she afforded 
protection to the reformers, and was raised up to be " a nursing 
mother" to the protestant churches of England. 

For flirther general details of the English reformation, the 
reader must bo referred to the histories of that period. Many 
events, however, are noticed in a valuable collection of letters 
from Jewell to Martyr and other continental reformers, pre- 
served at Zurich. These were printed by Burnet, from au- 
thenticated copies, sent to him by the public authorities of that 
city. Some account of this correspondence may be here intro- 
duced, as the letters present a lively delineation of the difficul- 
ties with which the reformnrs had to contend in the early part 
of the reign of queen Elizabeth, and exhibit JewelTs senti- 
ments and views upon many points. 

In a letter written by Jewell, January 26th, 1559, while on 
his journey homewards, he states that Sandys and others had 
arrived in FiUgland, where they were well received by the new 
queen, and that several bishoprics were void.* He mentions 
bishop White's funeral sermon for queen Mary, from the text 
"I praised the dead more than the living," and says he had 

* Several Romish bishops died about ihe same time as queen iVTnrv 



Disputation with the papists, 9 

therein represented that it would be a good deal to kill the 
exiles. The queen had prohibited both parties from preaching ; 
which some accounted for because at the time there was only- 
one protestant preacher in London, others said that it was to 
prevent disputes about ceremonies. He adds, "Wliatever it be, 
I wish that our people may not proceed with too much pru- 
dence and policy in the cause of God." 

On March the 20th, Jewell wrttes that he arrived in England 
on the fifty-seventh day after he left Zurich, which appears to 
have been about the middle o^ January. He had not found 
matters in so good a state as he expected. As yet the pope's 
authority was not cast off; as yet true religion was not restored ; 
masses were still said ; the Romish bishops displayed the same 
pomp and insolence, and were a great hinderance to the reform- 
ation. The queen openly favoured their cause ; but was de- 
terred from any innovations by the leaders of her council and 
the Spanish ambassador ; however, she proceeded with pru- 
dence, courage, and piety, though slower than they could wish. 
A public disputation was to be held between the leading pro- 
testant clergy and the papists, in which the former intended to 
maintain that it is contrary to the word of God, for the public 
prayers and administration of the sacrament to be in a tongue 
unknown to the people. He mentions that the queen spoke 
with much esteem of Martyr, and read his letters repeatedly 
with much pleasure. Brooks, the popish bishop of Gloucester, 
a man of impure life, had lately died, and when dying ex- 
claimed that he was damned. 

On Friday, 31st March, the disputation was held. It had 
been previously settled that all the arguments should be in 
writing. This the Romanists evaded ; and being permitted to 
state their reasons orally. Dr. Cole spoke at considerable length, 
with much vehemence and gesticulation, and was continually- 
prompted by his associates. Dr. Home, afterwards bishop of 
Winchester, then read the document he had prepared on the 
part of the protestants ; it was temperate, able, and convincing. 
The conference was then adjourned till the following Monday, 
when the Romanists desired again to go over the subject 
already discussed, and did every thing in their pov/er to cause 
irritation and delay. They refused to proceed in the regular 
course which had been agreed, and finally broke up the confer- 
ence. By this conduct they much injured their cause in the 
public estimation. 

On the 6th of April, Jewell sent Martyr an account of this 
public disputation, full particulars of which are given by Fox. 
Jewell was one of the persons appointed to take a part in the 
discussion, and earnestly desired that such conferences might be 
continued, in order that the truth should clearly appear. He 
describes Dr. Cole as reproaching the protestants in the most 
abusive manner. The subject first in dispute was respecting 
prayers in an unknown tongue. With much solemnity, Cole 

2* 



10 Jewell. — Life. 

asserted that the apostles had divided their work into the east- 
ern and western churches. The first, he said, was assigned to 
Peter and Paul, who directed that all belonging" to the Roman 
church, that is nearly the whole of Europe, should be taught in 
Latin. The eastern churches were assigned to the other apos- 
tles, and there all was to be taught in Greek. He was not 
afraid to urge one of the most obnoxious dogmas of popery, 
declaring that it was not expedient that the people should under- 
stand the public worship. Ignorance, he said, was the mother 
of real piety ! At such arguments, Jewell rightly supposed 
that Martyr would smile. 

On April the 28th, Jewell wrote again to his beloved friend. 
He speaks of the earnestness with which the bishops contended 
in support of popery, whereby the progress of truth was de- 
layed, and the cause of religion hindered. Feckenham, abbot 
of Westminster, had openly contended in parliament that the 
Nazarites, the prophets, the apostles, and Christ himself, were 
monks ! There was a design for seizing the bishops' manors, 
and endowing them instead with the impropriations formerly 
belonging to the monasteries. Schools, and matters connected 
with learning, were neglected. Some much desired to unite 
more closely with the Lutherans ; but they had exhibited their 
articles of religion and doctrine to the queen, and had not in 
the least departed from the Strasburg confession:* 

The painful feelings under which Jewell wrote these letters, 
doubtless were rendered more severe by the earnestness with 
which Romish principles had been defended in the house of 
commons during this session of parliament, which terminated 
by dissolution on the 8th of May. It is true that much was 
effected towards the re-establishment of the reformation ; but 
not without considerable difficulty. The unblushing effrontery 
with which the Romish members justified their proceedings 
considerably injured their cause. Among others, Dr. Story 
openly avowed the active part he had taken in persecuting the 
protestants, expressing his regret that he had not done much 
more ! He told the house that he threw a fagot at the face of 
one of the martyrs, whom he called earwigs, when singing a 
pwalm at the stake at Uxbridge, and set a bush of thorns under 
Iiis feet. He added, that he saw nothing to be ashamed or sorry 
for, but that it grieved him they had laboured only about the 
young and little twigs, whereas they should have struck at the 
root. By this, it was well known, he meant the queen herseli'! 
In the convocation, also, strong ofTorts were made to support the 
Romish faith. 

On May the 15th, af\er the dissolution of the parliament, the 
bishops were summoned to attend the council, and admonished 
to obey the acts recently passed. On this occasion archbishop 

* Or the Tctrapolitan Confession. 



Progress of the Reformation, 11 

Heath reminded the queen of her sister's submission to the see 
of Rome, and her engagement, in consequence, to suppress 
heresy; from which he asserted Elizabeth could not recede. 
Queen Elizabeth made a memorable and spirited reply, which 
is given by Strype from the authority of sir Henry Sidney. She 
told the papal prelates that as Joshua declared, '* I and my 
house will serve the Lord," so she and her realm were deter- 
mined to serve Him, and added a full declaration of her firm 
resolve not to submit to the usurpation of the bishop of Rome. 
This much encouraged the supporters of th^ reformation, and 
justifies Jewell's statements respecting the queen. The Romish 
bishops shortly after were deprived, but were suffered to live in 
retirement. Eiwexi Bonner was only imprisoned in the Marshal- 
sea, where he lived till his death in 1589, abhorred and exe- 
crated by all good men, but indulging in gluttony and liber- 
tinism. The popular indignation at his cruelties was so great, 
that his body was committed to the grave by night, lest his 
remains should be insulted by some whose friends or relatives he 
had caused .to be burned. 

In one of his letters Jewell writes that Bonner, when impri- 
soned in the Tower, addressed some criminals also confined 
there, as " friends and neighbors," upon v/hich one of them 
called him a beast, and told him to go to the place he deserved, 
and find his friends there ; adding, "I killed but one man, upon 
a provocation, and do truly repent of it ; but you have killed 
many holy persons, of all sorts, without any provocation from 
them, and are hardened in your impenitence. " 

Of the whole number of the Romish clergy in England, 
fourteen bishops, thirty-four other dignitaries, fifteen heads of 
colleges, and less than two hundred priests and other ecclesias- 
tics refused their assent to the measures of reformation ; the 
rest all complied, at least outwardly. The few monastic estab- 
lishments which had been refounded were now broken up. The 
Spanish ambassador obtained permission to transfer the inmates 
of three of them to the continent, where they afterwards 
assisted the conspirators against Elizabeth. On the 21st of 
June the English liturgy was again restored. Shortly after, the 
vacant sees were filled by protestants. 

On his arrival in England, Jewell was received by Nicholas 
Culverwell, a citizen of London, residing in Thames-street, 
with whom he abode three months. The lord Williams, of 
Thame, being ill, then sent for him, and with him he stayed 
some time, during which he probably visited Oxford. 

On May 22d, Jewell wrote to Bullinger. He was encou- 
raged by the queen's recent proceedings, and says, "That you 
exhort us to proceed with activity and courage is a spur not 
only acceptable, but also almost necessary. For we now have 
to do, not only with adversaries, but also with friends who fell 
from us in late years, and united with the enemy, and who now 
oppose us much more strongly and obstinately." The Spaniards 



12 Jewell. — Life. 

had niiich corrupted the morals of the nation ; but the protes- 
tant clergy did and would do what they could. God would bless 
their etForts, and give increase ; but as yet they hardly appeared 
to be returned from exile. He adds, " We have a prudent and 
pious queen who favours us. Religion is restored to the same 
state as in king Edward's time ; to which I doubt not your let- 
ters and exhortations, and those of your state, have much con- 
tributed." He then mentions that the queen did not wish to be 
styled or addressed as head of the English church. He laments 
the state to which the universities had been brought. At Ox- 
ford there were hardly two persons of their sentiments : Soto 
and the other Spanish friar had so completely rooted up all that 
Martyr had so well planted. It seemed scarcely possible that 
such devastation could have been made in so short a period. 
He adds, " Wherefore, although it would give me great plea- 
sure to see in England even a dog belonging to Zurich, I can- 
not at this time wish you to send your young people to us, either 
for learning or religion, unless you desire to have them returned 
wicked and barbarians.'' 

Lord Russell was exerting himself to promote religion. He 
was sensible of the kindness the exiles had experienced at 
Zurich, and anxiously inquired how he could send their benefac- 
tors a grateful acknowledgement. Jewell replied that nothing 
would be more acceptable to them than for his lordship studi- 
ously to endeavor to propagate Christ's religion ; whicii lord 
Russell promised to do. 

In another letter, written about the same period, Jewell la- 
ments the indifference of the protestants when compared with 
the recent zeal of the papists. He says, *' Christ was then 
expelled by his enemies ; he is now kept out by his friends.'' He 
regretted the queen's retaining a crucifix in her chapel. 

In August, 1559, he wrote with better expectations ; the 
queen was well animated, the people everywhere "thirsting for 
religion." He was about to commence a visitation of the 
western counties. In this letter he also mentions the probabil- 
ity of his being appointed bishop of Salisbury. The visitation 
here referred to was general throughout England ; its objects 
were the reforming many abuses which still remained, and pro- 
moting the knowledge of true religion. 

From this visitation Jewell returned on the 1st of Novem- 
ber, and wrote to Martyr the day following. He says, *' We 
found everywhere the minds of the people well inclined 
towards religion, even where least expected. The manner in 
which the harvest and forests of superstition sprung up in the 
dark Marian days is beyond belief We found everywhere 
superstitious relics of saints, the nails with which in their folly 
they believe (Christ was fastened, and I know not how many 
pieces of the holy cross ! The number of witches and sorcerers 
is increased everywhere. The cathedrals are mere dens of 
robbers ; or any worse or fouler appellation may be given them. 



Appointed bishop of Salisbury, 13 

If there be any obstinate malice, it is among the priests ; those 
especially who were formerly of our opinions." Many such 
ministers were deprived. He adds, " The papal army has fallen 
almost of itself; unless help be w^anting, we cannot be appre- 
hensive as to religion." On the same day he wrote to another 
correspondent, who had congratulated him on his appointment. 
He says, that as yet he was only nominated ; and expresses his 
hope that the bishops would be pastors, labourers, and watch- 
men. To promote this the larger revenues were to be reduced, 
so that they would not be expected to live with such pomp as 
formerly, but might have more leisure to attend to Christ's 
flock. 

On the 5th of November he wrote again, lamenting the ear- 
nestness of some about certain rituals and vestments, which he 
wishes were prohibited. He regrets the little care taken with 
respect to education. There was much talk that Martyr would 
again be invited over ; but Jewell feared that the Saxon, or 
Lutheran mfluence would prevail. 

On the 16th of the same month he wrote in a more gloomy 
strain. DilTerences had begun to prevail on the subject of cer- 
emonials. He says, that Ibolish ceremonies still abounded. 
- The silver crucifix remained in the queen's chapel.* The uni- 
versities, Oxford especially, w^here Martyr had taught, still lay 
desolate, without piety, without religion, without teachers, or 
any attempt to promote literature. Many persons desired that 
Martyr should come over ; Jewell wished it, but such was the 
uncertain, fluctuating, unstable, "island-like" state of afl^airs, 
that he would rather hear of Martyr's safety at a distance than 
see him present and in danger.. At that time the state of poli- 
tical affairs was very threatening; an invasion from France 
being expected. 

After his return from the visitation, Jewell was consecrated 
bishop of Salisbury. He had not sought this promotion. Being 
deeply impresssd with a sense of the importance of the office, 
he often repeated the words, '* He that desireth a bishopric, de- 
sireth a work." (1 Tim. iii. 1.) "And surely," adds his biog- 
rapher, " if ever to any, to him his bishopric was a continual 
' work ' of ruling and governing ; not merely by the pastoral 
staff* of his jurisdiction in his consistory, but also in the court 
of men's consciences, by the golden sceptre of God's word 
preached." He found his diocese in a most disordered state. 
The revenues had been so miserably impoverished by the con- 
duct of his popish predecessor, bishop Capon, that he com- 
plained he could not have the assistance he needed : " There 
was never a good living left him that would maintain a learned 
man. For the Capon has devoured all ; because he hath either 
given away or sold all the ecclesiastical dignities and livings." 

* This crucifix occasioned many apprehensions to the reformers. See 
Tracy's letter respecting it. Tindal, p. 348 



14 Jewell. — Life. 

The additional labour which in consequence fell upon Jewell 
hastened him to the grave. 

His next letter to Martyr is dated 4th February, 1560. The 
controversy about crucifixes was very bitter. Many good men 
were inclined to favour them. The following day there was to 
be a conference on the subject. He expected not to be a bishop 
when he wrote again, being informed that none would ba 
allowed to retain that office w^ho did not consent to crucifixes 
being set up in all the churches. 

March the 5th, Jewell wrote that a change appeared visible 
among the people. This had been much promoted by inviting 
the congregations to sing psalms in public worship, according 
to the plan generally adopted upon the continent. It began at 
one church in London, St. Antholin's, and the example was 
Hoon adopted in others. At Paul's cross sometimes there were 
six thousand persons singing together. The Romish priests 
were become objects of Tderision, and the popish bishops were 
called executioners to their faces. 

From the time of the conference being broken off by the Ro- 
manists, Jewell had been anxious publicly to expose the errors 
of popery, and in November 1559, he preached at Paul's cross, 
when he boldly attacked the pretensions of the Romish church, 
respecting the antiquity of its doctrines. He spoke against these 
claims in a manner which even many protestants apprehended 
he would hardly be able to support. But Jewell well knew the 
ground he had taken. On the Sunday before Easter, March 30, 
1560, he again preached at Paul's cross, to an immense con- 
gregation. His text was 1 Cor. xi. 28. ** For I have received 
of the Lord tJiat which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord 
Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread, 
&c." when he referred to his former sermon, and repeated his 
arguments, complaining that although many had spoken against 
them in private, no scholar had come forward to meet him pub- 
licly. He summed up, by giving his adversaries a challenge in 
twenty-seven particulars, which he had a short time previously 
stated in a sermon at court. They are as follows: — 

"If any learned man of our adversaries, or alF the learned 
men tliat be alive, be able to bring any one sufficient sentence 
out of any old catholic doctor, or father, or general council, or 
holy scripture, or any one example in the primitive church du- 
ring the first six hundred years, whereby it may clearly and 
plainly be proved — 1. That there was at any time any private 
niasses in the world. 2. Or that there was then any commu- 
nion ministered unto the people under one kind. 3. Or that the 
people had their common-prayer in a strange tongue that the 
people understood not. 4. Or that the bishop of Rome was 
then called an universal bishop, or the head of the imiversal 
church. 5. Or that the people wore then taught to believe that 
(vhrist's body is really, substantially, corporeally, carnally, or 
naturally in the sacrament. 6. Or that his body is or may be 



JeweWs challenge to the papists, 15 

in a thousand places or more at one time. 7. Or that the 
priest did then hold up the sacrament over his head. 8. Or that 
the people did then fall down and worship it with godly honour. 
9. Or that the sacrament was then, or now ought to be, hanged 
up under a canopy. 10. Or that in the sacrament, after the 
words of consecration, there remained only the accidents and 
shows, without the substance of bread and wine. 11. Or that 
then the priest divided the sacrament into three parts, and 
afterwards received himself alone. 12. Or that whosoever had 
said the sacrament is a figure, a pledge, a token, or a remem- 
brance of Christ's body, had therefore been adjudged for an 
heretic. 13. Or that it was lawful then to have thirty, twenty, 
fifteen, ten, or five masses said in the same church in one day. 
14. Or that images were then set up in the churches, to the in- 
tent the people might worship them. 15. Or that the lay-peo- 
ple were then forbidden to read the word of God in their own 
tongue. 16. Or that it was then lawful for the priest to pro- 
nounce the words of consecration closely, or in private to him- 
self 17. Or that the priest had then authority to offer up 
Christ unto his Father. 18. Or to communicate and receive 
the sacrament for another, as they do. 19. Or to apply the 
virtue of Christ's death and passion to any man by the means of 
the mass. 20. Or that it was then thought a sound doctrine to 
teach the people that the mass, ' ex opere operate,' (that is, even 
for that it is said and done) is able to remove any part of our 
sin. 21. Or that any Christian man called the sacrament his 
Lord, and God. 22. Or that the people were then taught to 
believe, that the body of Christ remaineth in the sacrament, as 
long as the accidents of bread and wine remain there without 
corruption. 23. Or that a mouse or any other worm or beast 
may eat the body of Christ, (for so some of our adversaries have 
said and taught.) 24. Or that when Christ said, * Hoc est cor- 
pus meum,' the word, *hoc' pointed not to the bread, but to an 
individuum vagum, (or an unascertained quality.) as some of 
them say. 25. Or that the accidents, or forms, or shows of 
bread and wine are the sacraments of Christ's body and blood, 
and not rather the very bread and wine itself 26. Or that the 
sacrament is a sign or token of the body of Christ, that lieth 
hidden underneath it. 27. Or that ignorance is the mother 
and cause of true devotion and obedience. The conclusion is, 
that I shall then be content to hold and subscribe." 

This sermon gave a most severe blow to the popish religion 
in England. Popery was generally odious for the barbarous 
cruelties so recently committed by the professors of that faith 
upon persons of all ranks, however excellent in character, who 
had differed from the church of Rome during the late reign, but 
its claims to antiquity, although unfounded, were still credited 
by many. These claims bishop Jewell now disputed, and a 
memorable controversy ensued. 



16 Jewell. — Life, 

This challenge, says his biographer, being thus published in 
so great an auditory, startled the English papists both at home 
and abroad, none more than such of our fugitives as had retired 
to Louvain, Douay, or St. Omers, in the Low-Country provinces 
belonging to the king of Spain. The business was first agitated 
by the exchange of friendly letters betwixt bishop Jewell and 
l)r. Henry Cole, the late dean of St. PauFs; more violence 
Ibllowed m a book of Rastal's, who first appeared in the lists 
against the challenger, followed by Dorman and Marshall, 
who severally took up the argument to as little purpose; the 
first being well beaten by Nowell, and the last by Calfhill ; but 
these were only preparatory skirmishes in reference to the 
main encounter, which was reserved for the reverend challenger 
himself, and Dr. John Harding, one of the divines of Louvain, 
and the most learned of the college. The combatants were 
born m the same county, bred up in the same grammar school, 
and studied in the same university; both were zealous pro- 
testants in the time of king Edward, and both relapsed to 
popery in the time of queen Mary ; Jewell for fear, and Harding 
upon hope of favour and preferment by it. Jewell's fall may 
be compared to that of St. Peter, which was short and sudden, 
he rising again by his repentance, and fortified more strongly in 
his faith than he was before ; but Harding's was like to that of 
the other Simon, premeditated and resolved on, never to be 
restored again to his former standing, so much was there within 
him of the gall of bitterness. Some former difl^erences had 
been between them in the church of Salisbury, whereof the 
one was prebendary, and the other bishop, occasioned by the 
bishop's visitation of that cathedral, in which Harding had the 
worst, and it was a presage of a second foil which he was to 
have in this encounter. 

Harding's first work in answer to this challenge was printed 
in 1564. Jewell replied again to Harding in 1565, to which 
Harding wrote a rejoinder in 1566, and another in 1567. The 
bishop made a further reply in 1567, sliowing how abundantly 
he was able to make good his challcnjre. Several others zea- 
lously wrote against Jewell's book besides those already men- 
tioned. Saunders discoursed upon some detached passages, and 
Stapleton wrote a great volume upon Jewell's marginal notes. 
Harding's lann^uagc often was abusive; in a letter written to 
fewell in 1565, he thus writes: — "Make ye not ministers of 
tag and rag for the Spirit's sake? Clap me not they the bare 
bible upon the desk, and preach thereupon after their own 
sense 1" But such expressions are as nothing compared with 
much of his railing against Jewell and the reformation.* 

• Durinir the reign of Edward VI. Harding was chaplain in the fiimily 
of the duke of Suftblk, and very zealous against popery. Previously to 
the accos^sion of (]ueen Mary \\v earnestly (whortrd a eonf^rciialion in 
IvondoiMo continue stcadiiibi in the trntli. if persecution shouui arise. But 



His Apology. 17 

Another and more important branch of this controversy arose 
from a work which will ever remain as one of the records of 
the English reformation. In the year 1562 bishop Jewell pub- 
lished, The Apology of the Church of England, in Latin, which 
was sent forth with the queen's authority, and by the advice of 
some of the bishops, as a public confession of the catholic and 
christian faith of the English church, and to give an account of 
the reasons of our departure from the see of Rome. Also as an 
answer to the calumnies which were raised against the English 
church and nation, for not submitting to the pretended general 
council of Trent then sitting. 

This apology being published during the time of the last 
meeting of the council of Trent, it was read there, and seriously 
considered. Great threats were made that it should be answered ; 
and accordingly two. learned bishops, one a Spaniard and the 
other an Italian, undertook the task, but neither of them pro- 
ceeded therein. 

The book rapidly spread into all the countries in Europe, and 
was much applauded. It found a passage into Rome itself; and 
was translated into the German, Italian, French, Spanish, and 
Dutch languages, and into Greek. It was translated into En- 
glish by the lady Bacon, wife of sir Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper 
of the great seal of England. 

The apology well deserves the character Humfrey has given 
of it, — his words are these : " It is so drawn, that the first part 
of it is an illustration, and as it Vv'ere a paraphrase of the twelve 
articles of the christian faith (or creed,) the second is a short and 
solid confutation of u^hatever is objected agamst the English 
church. If the order be considered, nothing can be better ar- 
ranged ; if the perspicuity, nothing can be more clear ; if the 
style, nothing more terse ; if the words, nothing more select ; 
if the arguments, nothing stronger." 

Bishop Jewell was especially encouraged to publish this 
apology by Peter Martyr, with w^hom he had spent the greatest 
part of his tmie when in exile. Martyr lived to see the book 
w^hich he so much desired ; he died at Zurich, on the twelfth 
day of November following, after he had expressed his esteem 
of this work in a letter which is subjoined to the book in the 
subsequent editions, lii 1564 the university of Oxford conferred 
upon Jewell, though absent, the degree of doctor of divinity ; 
and certainly he well deserved to have that extraordinary respect 

he quickly recanted, and a letter addressed to him by lady Jane Grey, still 
remains a testimony against him. The triumph of popery was short, but 
Harding was one whopreferred adhering to his new principles, rather than 
becoming an outcast from both parties. He retired to Louvain, where he 
prepared replies to bishop Jewell's challenge and apolog}\ He was the 
principal writer on the part of the Romanists, but his misrepresentations, 
appeals to spurious works, and his mere assertions in the place of ar- 
guments, must be evident to every candid examiner and lover of the truth. 

Jewell. *^ 



18 Jewell, — Life, 

and honour shown him, who was so eminently employed then in 
the service and defence of the church. 

The apologfy engfaired Harding's attention even earlier than 
the challenge. In 1564 he printed what he called a confutation 
of JewelTs book, a dcfenceof which the bishop forthwith began, 
and it was finish€>d on the 27th of October, 1567, as appears 
from the epistle to Harding at the conclusion. 

Harding also put out another piece, which he entitled, A 
Detection of sundry foul Errors, (fcc. ; this was a cavilling reply 
to some passages in the Defence of the apology. As it did not 
deserve an answer by itself, Jewell replied to it by a preface to 
a new impression of his former defence, which he finished the 
11th of December 1569, and at the same time dedicated his 
works to the queen ; Harding having declared that she was 
ofi'ended with bishop Jewell for thus troubling the world. 

It may be further remarked, that this apology was accounted 
as the public confession of the catholic and christian faith of all 
Englishmen. It shows their agreement in doctrine with the 
other reformed churches, and is printed as such in the Har- 
mony and Sylloge of the Confessions. Although the work of 
one person, it was referred to by English protestants as a public 
summary and statement of their doctrines. 

We now have to notice bishop Jewell's epistle to Scipio, 
respecting the council of Trent. The conduct of pope Paul 
IV. has been already mentioned. He was succeeded by Pius 
IV., who determined to try gentler methods. He sent an abbojt 
named Parapaglia with courteous letters, and directions to make 
large offers to the queen if she would be reconciled to the see 
of Rome. If she would have yielded the supremacy the pope 
would have given way on other points. Elizabeth was not 
inclined to listen to any such proposals; the question was 
already decided, and the pope's authority rejected. She would 
not sufler Parapaglia even to land in England. A similar refusal 
was given in the following year to a nuncio sent by the pope to 
inviteElizabeth and the English bishops to the council of 'JVenl. 
The emperor P^erdinand also in vain exhorted her to return to 
" the old religion," as he termed the doctrines of popery. Scipio, 
a native of Venice, having heard of the nuncio's ill success, 
wrote to Jewell, whom he had known when in exile, complainincr 
of the neglect shown by England towards the council. Jewell 
well knew how little the council of Trent resembled the general 
councils of the early centuries, and replied, so ably exposing 
the proceedings of that assembly, that no Romanist attempted 
an answer. 

Another subject connected with the English reformation, and 
in which Jewell took considerable interest, must now be 
noticed. By the commencement of 1561 the reformation w«a 
brought back to the state wherein it was in the latter years of 
king Edward; for a more minute description Strype refers to 



Discussion respecting conformity, 19 

the account of the former period written by Ridley.* Burnet, 
however, considers that it had rather retrograded, and certainly 
on some points the errors of popery were not so decidedly 
pointed out, and the more zealous protestants had cause for 
tiissatistaction. There evidently had been a desire to avoid 
givmg otience to the Romanists, some expressions in the litany 
had been omitted from a desire to retain them in conformity, 
and this succeeded to a great extent, till the pope absolutely 
forbad them to continue to worship with protestants. But the 
queen on New year's day took occasion to express her detestation 
of Romish pictures and images of saints, by a severe rebuke to 
the dean of St. Paul's, who had caused a new prayer-book with 
beautiful engravings and pictures to be laid tor her majesty's 
use. It is not improbable that Elizabeth, aware that many of 
the reformers were dissatisfied with her for not having proceeded 
far enough in the work oi' reformation, took the opportunity to 
express her disapproval of Romish superstitions. Strype relates 
the good effects of this public rebuke. The clergy and church- 
'Wardens of the parishes in and about London, caused all 
paintings that seemed Romish and idolatrous, to be washed 
from the church walls, and suitable texts taken from the holy 
scriptures to be written in their stead. 

In January 1562, a memorable convocation assembled. The 
thirty-nine articles were agreed to, and unanimously decreed. 
Then followed a discussion respecting certain rites and cere- 
monies. On the 13th of February six articles were proposed to 
the lower house of convocation. 1. That only the Sundays and 
principal feasts of Christ, should be kept as holydays. 2. That 
the minister in time of prayer turn his face to the people and 
read distinctly.! 3. That it should be optional whether the 
cross in baptism should be used. 4. That kneeling at the 
sacrament might be left to the discretion of the ordinaries 
within their respective jurisdictions. 5. That it be sufficient 
for the minister in timeof saying divine service and ministering 
of the sacraments, to use a surplice, but that no minister should 
say service, or minister the sacraments, unless in a comely 
garment or habit. 6. That the use of organs be removed. 
Forty-three persons approved these articles, who with proxies 
made fifty-eight votes ; those who opposed were thirty-five 
persons, making with proxies, fifty nine votes, consequently the 
articles were rejected. Those who opposed were unwilling that 
any changes should be made in the rites and appointments of 
king Edward's liturgy. The fourth article was particularly 
debated. Among the approvers of these articles were some of 
the most distinguished divines of the English church. 

* See Ridley's last farewell, p- 141. 

t This was particularly opposed to the practice of the Romish mass, 
where the officiating priest is rather a performer before the assembly 
present, than a leader and director of their devotions. 



20 Jewell^Life. 

Various other suggestions were made by the lower house of 
convocation, which are given in Strype's annals, but although 
these requests were not considerable, much importance was 
attached to them, and they were not acceded to. 

The want of sufficient ministers was so much felt, that per- 
sons were selected from the laity to read the service and the 
homilies, and to promote the welfare of the parishes where they 
officiated, till *' learned ministers" should be placed there. 
Orders for their guidance were drawn up and signed by several 
of the bishops; among them was bishop Jewell.* Dean Now- 
ell's catechism was allowed for the use of schools, as a brief 
summary of the doctrine owned and professed in the reformed 
church of England. Some acts were also prepared for the due 
observance of public worship, and the Lord's day. The pro- 
ceedings of this convocation induced several leading ecclesiastics 
to be more strict in their requirements of conformity, while 
the rejection of all the propositions of those \^ho now began to 
be distinguished by the honourable appellation of puritans, 
excited considerable dissatisfaction, and serious difterences 
speedily prevailed. But to pursue these details would lead us 
from the more immediate subject of these pages.f 

That Jewell disapproved the conduct of the prevailing party 
is evident from his writings, while from the same authority we 
find he considered that their opponents went too far. He was, 
however, too fully occupied to take any prominent part in these 
discussions ; while his christian and kindly feelings rendered 
him unwilling to join in the harsh measures then adopted. It 
certainly appears that the line of conduct pursued by the lead- 
ing protestant clergy in the reign of Elizabeth, evidently tended 
to reduce every sort of public or social worship of God to one 
precise form of expression.]: In this they adopted a different 
course from that which the church of Rome had hitherto pur- 

* The papists endeavoured to cast a reproach upon the reformation by 
alleging die secular occupations of these teachers. Calt'hill well replied, 
"(J rant that the inferior sort of our ministers were such as these men in 
spite imagine — such as came from the shop, from the forge, from the 
wherry, from the loom ; — should ye not find more sincerity and learning 
in them, tlian in all the rahble of popish chaplains, their mass-nfionirers, 
and their soul-priests ? I lament thai there arc not as many goml preachers 
a» parishes. 1 am sorry that some so unskilful arc preferred, but I never 
saw a simple reader admitted into our church, but in the time of popery 
you should have found in every diocese forty sir Johns (romish priests) in 
every respect worse." 

t The reader may be referred to Strype's Annals, and Neal's History of 
the Puritans. 

\ This appears tlie more evident from the disuse into which the pro- 
testant jirimrr then heiian to fall. The primer is a small work containing 
prayers and devotional pieces suited for various occasions. If had heen 
reformed in the reitrn ot F>dward VI., but after the accession of K'.izabeth 
began to be laid aside, although it contained many valuable prayers suited 
for social and private use. 



His moderation. 21 

sued, which allowed the use of various formularies; every 
religious order had its peculiar rites and services, and even now 
the Romish authorized books contain a considerable variety of 
offices of devotion.* Had more latitude in matters professedly 
indifferent been allowed to some of the most valuable characters 
amongst the reformers, such as Coverdale, Fox, Turner, and 
others, spiritual religion doubtless would have been promoted. 

Another letter written by Jewell to Martyr, on the 7th of 
February, 1562, deserves attention. Speaking of the temporizing 
course adopted by some who were in authority on the continent, 
and of their inclination to the Interim,! he adds, " Now that the 
perfect light of the gospel has burst forth, the vestiges of for- 
mer errors, with the rubbish, and even the dust which remained, 
should as much as possible, be taken away. How I wish that 
we could have obtained this with respect to the linen stole. 
For in doctrines we have gone to the quick, and are not a 
nail's breadth from you therein."| The Marian bishops were 

* Their error was a mistake common in that day. As it has been 
expressed by Dr. Chalmers, "The theologians of that day supposed that 
Christianity could not flourish, nay, that it could not exist, save in the one 
framework of one certain and defined ecclesiastical constitution, and 
hence with us (in Scotland) that there would be no light and no efficacy 
in the ministrations of the gospel, unless they were conducted according 
to the forms, and in the strict model and framework of the presbytery !" 
The Rev. E. Bickersteth, quoting the above remark, adds, " The same 
thing was seen among episcopalians. There has now surely been ample 
experience in the history of the church, to raise us above this littleness 
of the carnal mind, to those higher regions which show us the true 
character and glory of the christian church." — Christian Student, p. 219, 

t A formulary of doctrine set forth by the imperial authority, in the 
vain hope of reconciling protestantism and popery. 

t Strype says, " The first bishops that were made, and who were but 
newly returned out of exile, as Cox, Griridal, Home, Sandys, Jewell, 
Parkhurst, Bentham, upon their first return, before they entered upon their 
ministry, laboured all they could against receiving into the church the 
papistical habits, and that all the ceremonies should be clean laid aside. 
But they could not obtain it from the queen and parliament, and the habits 
were enacted. Then they consulted together what to do, being in some 
doubt whether to enter upon their functions. But they concluded unani- 
mously not to desert their ministry for some rites, which, as they con- 
sidered, were but few, and not evil in themselves, especially since the 
doctrine of the gospel remained pure and entire. And in this counsel, 
which they had at first taken, they confinued still well satisfied ; and also 
upon consideration that by filling these rooms in the church, they might 
keep out Lutherans, and such as were suspected papists; which was an 
argument the learned foreigners, their friends, suggested to them." 
Annals, I. i. p. 263. 

Beza, however, considered that the evil was greater than the Swiss 
divines apprehended. In a letter to Bullinger, the substance of which is 
given by Strype (Annals, I. ii. p. 171,) he says, that he thought "that the 
business had been about caps, and such external matters; but he after- 
wards understood that the controversy was much different." He urged 
that Gualther should be sent by the divines at Zurich, personally to sue 
the queen and the bishops to remedy these evils. The Swiss divines did 
indeed interpose by letters, several of which are given by Strype and 

3* 



22 Jewell. — 'Life, 

then in the Tower ; he speaks of them as a contumacious and 
untameable race, only to be restrained by force. He mentions 
his apology as lately published. He adds that the queen had 
determined not to send anyone to the council of Trent; and 
speaks of a design to publish the reasons why none attended 
from England. He says, that, in his opinion, at that time no 
good could be promoted by those assemblies, nor would God 
make use of such means lo diffuse the gospel. He also adverts 
to the affairs of Scotland, tiien a subject of much importance 
to England on account of the uncertainty respecting the suc- 
cession. 

Martyr died in the same year, and but few of Jewell's letters 
to the other reformers appear. He was now deeply occupied 
by his laborious writings, and in the care of his diocese. The 
differences at home continued and increased. They are noticed 
by Jewell in his letters to Bullinger. 

But Jewell was not unmindful of his former friends at Zurich. 
He continued to correspond with them, and Strype mentions 
that in the year 1565, having received from Bullinger a copy of 
his comment upon Daniel, and a work upon Joshua, fi om 
Lavater, he sent them a present of twenty crowns to be disposed 
of as they thought fit. lie also sent annually the same sum to 
Julius, who had been Martyr's friend and assistant. Soon 
afterwards, many foreigners, exiles for religion, took shelter in 
this country, and were assisted by Jewell and others. 

In a letter to Bullinger, dated January 1566, Jewell attributes 
his less frequent correspondence to his numerous occupations, 
particularly the controversies with their foreign enemies, with 
whom he had to contend almost alone. The refugees at Lou vain 
in particular, wrote most bitterly against himself He then 
enters more particularly into the history of these controversies 
as already given. The distance of their respective dioceses, 
had so separated him from some of his former fellow exiles that 
he had not seen them for three years. 

In another letter, dated February 1566, he thus expresses 
himself: — " The contention respecting the ecclesiastical linen 
garment is not yet at rest. It disturbs weak minds not a little. 
And I wish that all, even the slightest, vestiges of popery could 
be removed from the churches, and much more from the minds 
of all men. But at this time the queen cannot bear my change 
with respect to religion." Elizabeth's situation was one of 
great political difficulty. The pope had openly denounced her 
as a heretic, the Romanists in England were engaging in 
conspiracies against her life, and she was very apprehensive of 
evil consequences from any measures which should displease 
that large number of her subjects, who were not disposed to 
adopt the views either of the papists or the puritans. In the 

Burnet, and although their advice was not followed by either party, 
their interference probably waa in some degree beneficial. 



Controversies with the papists. 23 

following month, Jewell wrote again to Bullinger respecting 
some pomts to be noticed in his defence of the apology. 

In another letter of Jewell's to Bullinger, February 29, 1667, 
he mentions that the Romish divines of Lou vain were very 
clamorous, and that, he knew not why, they all attacked him, 
so that while engaged in answering them he must not be 
accounted idle. He then speaks of the debates respecting the 
succession which caused much discussion, and adds, " As to 
religion, the matter respecting vestments excites considerable 
disturbances. It is certain that the queen will not give way. 
Some of our brethren, indeed, contend respecting this matter 
as if all our religion turned upon that one point. So that they 
prefer to renounce their offices, and to leave the churches vacant, 
rather than to depart a very little from their opinions. Nor are 
they willing to be influenced by your writings, or those of 
Gualther, or other pious men. Let us, however, thank God 
that he has not suffered us to be agitated at this time by more 
important discussions. One only of our number, the bishop of 
Gloucester, (Cheyney,) openly and boldly declares his approba- 
tion of the Lutheran opinions respecting the eucharist." Al- 
though the subjects which then interested the puritans cannot 
be considered as trivial, yet any one who is acquainted with the 
painful results of the diiferences in Germany on the sacramental 
question, will fully enter into this expression of thankfulness on 
the part of Jewell, that the English reformation was not agitated 
or impeded by the disputes on that subject* 

In addition to Jewell's controversies with the Romanists 
already mentioned, his attention about this time was engaged 
by the bull of pope Pius V. lately sent into England, in which 
a curse was pronounced against the queen, her authority 
declared null and void, her subjects absolved from their alle- 
giance and exhorted to rise in rebellion against her. Jewell re- 
plied to these doctrines in a series of sermons preached in his 
cathedral, the substance of which was printed under the title of 
A View of a seditious Bull, &c. This bull plainly showed to 
Elizabeth that she could not hope to reign in England but as a 
protestant queen, unless she would submit to all the doctrines 
of the church of Rome. The efforts of the papal court were 
directed to place a popish sovereign on the English throne, and 
the English papists were divided into two parties, which still 

* Some of the English Jesuits afterwards assumed the character of 
puritan ministers, that they might promote these differences. One, 
named Heath, a Jesuit, was detected by a letter which he dropped 
while preaching in Rochester cathedral, in 1568. Amongst his papers 
was found a license from the pope to preach what doctrine the Jesuits 
pleased, for the dividing of protestants. He was brother to Heath 
archbishop of York in the reign of queen Mary, and after preaching in 
various parts of England for six years, had applied to the dean of 
Rochester for preferment, who gave him a turn of preaching in the 
cathedral. 



24 Jewell. — Life. 

continue. One of these followed the papal mandates as blindly 
as any of the nations on the continent; the other admitted the 
secular jurisdiction of their sovereign, independent of papal 
authority.* 

Jewell's last public labours appear to have been in the con- 
vocation, which met in the spring of 1571. It was then ordered, 
that the book of articles agreed upon in 1562 should be sub- 
scribed by all the clergy, and that the articles now again ap- 
proved, should be printed under the superintendence of bishop 
Jewell. In this year also he preached a sermon at Paul's cross, 
in which he referred to the ceremonies and state of the church, 
and blamed the spirit in which some among the separatists 
acted. He mentioned this sermon when upon his death-bed. 

His life now drew near to its close. He was naturally of a 
spare and thin habit of body, which he wore still further by his 
labours in study, writing, preaching, and travelling. He thus 
apparently hastened his death, before he was fifty years of age. 

Bishop Jewell appears to have had a presentiment of his ap- 
proaching departure. In the year 1570, in his letters to the 
bishop of Norwich, after he had certified him of the death of 
Dr. Alley, bishop of Exeter, he added these words, *' And I must 
follow him ;" and in another letter he said : " I would to God 
we might meet and talk together; but now it is toc^ late, it 
makes not much matter ; I hope we siiall see one the other in 
heaven. Flux, flux, that is, in the German tongue, quick, quick, 
make haste ; if you make any delay, I shall prevent you." 

The same year that he died, February 3, he postscribed 
another letter thus : " There is a rumour of the calling a 
parliament, which if it be true, then perhaps we shall embrace 
one the other before death ; my death, I say, not yours; for you 
shall yet in this life sing, the strong and immortal God." 

The following account of the last days of bishop Jewell, is 
given by his biographer: — *' Tlie supernatural motions of God's 
Spirit within him in the end, became, as it were, naturally more 
effectual in the conclusion ; and the last endeavours of grace in 
him were most vehement. For, after his return from a con- 
ference at London, he began a new and more severe visitation 
through his whole diocese than ever before, correcting the vices 
of the clergy and laity more sharply, enjoining them in some 
places tasks of holy tracts to be learned by heart, conferring 
orders more circumspectly, and preaching oftcncr. 

* These prrceediiigs of the pope caused insurrections of the Roman- 
ists and continual consjiiracics against Elizabeth during the remain- 
der ot her reign, which led to severe enactments against popish recu- 
sants and the missionaries sent to England from Home to advocate 
these treasonable doctrines. It has been justly observed by Mr.Townsend, 
that, "When the bull of deposition can be called a religious action, 
then nuiy the self-defence of Elizabeth be denominated persecution — 
then only may the defenders of the bull be justly said to suffer for 
r» lijLMon." 



His last hours. 25 

" By which restless labour and watchful cares he brought his 
feeble body so low, that as he rode to preach at Lacock, in 
Wiltshire, a gentleman friendly admonished him to return home 
for his health and strength's sake ; saying, that such straining 
his body in riding and preaching, he being so exceedingly weak 
and ill affected, might bring him in danger of his life ; assuring 
him, that it was better the people should want one sermon, than 
be altogether deprived of such a preacher. To whom he replied, 
*It becometh best a bishop to die preaching in the pulpit;* 
seriously. tbmking upon the comfortable eulogy of his master, 
' Happy art thou, my servant, if, when I come, I find thee so 
domg.' Wherefore, that he might not deceive the people's 
expectation, he ascended the pulpit ; and now nothing but spirit, 
his flesh being pined away and exhausted, read his text out of 
the fifth to the Galatians, ' Walk in the spirit ;' and with much 
pains made an end of it, 

"Presently after his sermon, his disease growing more upon 
him, forced him to take to his bed, and to think of his dissolution, 
as now not far off.* In the beginning of his extreme fits, he 
made his will, considering therein his brother and his friends 
with some kind remembrances, but bestowing the rest more 
liberally upon his servants, scholars, and the poor of Sarum. 
The Saturday following, nature with all her forces, being able 
no longer to hold fight with the disease, shrinking and failing, 
he called all his household about him, and, after an exposition 
of the Lord's prayer, thus began his sweet song : — 

*' * I see I am now to go the way of all flesh, and I feel the 
arrows of death already fa.stened in my body ; wherefore I am 
desirous, m few words, while yet my most merciful God vouch- 
safeth me the use of my tongue, to speak unto you all. It was 
my prayer always unto Almighty God, since I had any under- 
standing, that I might honour his name with the sacrifice of my 
flesh, and confirm his truth with the oblation of this my body 
unto death in the defence thereof; which, seeing he hath not 
granted me in this, yet I somewhat rejoice and solace myself, 
that it is worn away and exhausted in the labours of my holy 
calling. For while I visit the people of God, God my God hath 
visited me. With Mr. Harding, who provoked me first, I have 
contended in my writings, not to detract from his credit and 
estimation, nor, to my knowledge, to patronize any error, nor to 
gain the vain applause of the world, but, according to my poor 
ability, to do my best services to God and his church. My last 
sermon at Paul's cross, and conference about the ceremonies 

* Strype says, that bishop Jewell died while on a journey to visit the 
diocese of Bristol, by direction of the primate. That diocese was then 
vacant; a former commission to bishop Cheyney, authorizing him to hold 
it in commendam with Gloucester, having been withdrawn, in consequence 
of Cheyney's attachment to some of the tenets of the Lutherans, which 
had a tendency to popery. 



26 JewelL—Life. 

and state of our church, were not to please any man living, nor 
to grieve any of my brethren, who are of a contrary opinion, 
but only to this end, that neither part might prejudice the other, 
and that the love of God might be shed in the hearts of all the 
brethren, through the Spirit that is given us. And I beseech 
almighty God, of his infinite mercy, to convert or confound the 
head of all these evils, and ringleader of all rebellions, disorders, 
and schism, the bishop of Rome, who, wheresoever he setteth 
foot, soweth seeds of strife and contention. I beseech him also 
long to preserve the queen's majesty, to direct and protect her 
council, to maintain and increase godly pastors, and to grant to 
his whole church unity and godly peace. Also, I beseech you 
all that are about me, and all others whom I ever offended, to 
forgive me. And now that my hour is at hand, and all my 
moisture dried up, I most earnestly desire of you all this last 
duty of love, to pray for me, and to help me with the ardency 
of your affection, when you perceive me, through the infirmity 
of my flesh, to languish and wax cold in my prayers. Hitherto 
I have taught you and many others ; now the time is come 
wherein I may, and desire, to be taught and strengthened by 
every one of you.' 

" Having thus spoken, and something more to the like pur- 
pose with much pain and interruption, he desired them to sing 
the 71st psalm, which begins thus: In thee, O Lord, I put my 
trust, let me never be cojifounded ; himself joining, as well as 
he could, with them ; and when they recited those words. Thou 
art my hope, O Lord God, my trust even from my youth, he 
added. Thou only wast my whole hope ; and as they went 
forward saying. Cast me not off in time of age, forsake me not 
when my strength faileth me ; yea even to mine old age and 
gray head, forsake me not, O God ; he made this application 
to himself: He is an old man ; he is truly gray-headed, and his 
strength faileth him, who lieth on his death-bed. To which he 
added other thick and short prayers, as it were pulses, so moved 
by the power of God's Spirit, saying, * Lord, take from me my 
spirit ; Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace. Break off 
all delays; suffer thy servant to come unto thee; conmiand 
him to be with thee ; Lord, receive my s])irit.' 

" Here, when one of those who stood by prayed with tears 
that if it might stand with God's good pleasure, he would restore 
him to former health, Jewell, overhearing him, turned his eyes, 
ns it were oflrnded, and spake to him in the words of Ambrose: 
* I have not lived so that I am ashamed to live longer; neither 
do I fear to die, because we have a merciful Lord. A crown of 
righteousness is laid up for me; Christ is my righteousness. 
Father, let thy will be done; thy will, I say, and not my will, 
which is imperfect and depraved. O Lord, confound me not. 
This is my to-day; this day quickly let me come unto thee; 
this day let me see the Lord Jesus.' 



His happy departure, 27 

" With these words the door was shut by the base sound of 
the grinding, and the daughters of singing were abased, the 
silver cord lengthened no more ; the golden ewer was cracked, 
and the pitcher broken at the well ; yet the keepers, though 
with much trembling, stood erect, and they that looked out of 
the windows, though dark, yet were fixed towards heaven, till 
atler a few fervent, inward prayers of devotion, and sighs of 
longing desire, the soul returned to God that gave it.* M. Rid- 
ley, the steward of his house, shut his eyes in the year of our 
Lord 1571, September 22, about three of the clock in the after- 
noon, when he was almost fifty years of age. 

" Such was the life and death of bishop Jewell, a most worthy 
trumpet of Christ's glorious gospel. What now remains, but 
that we mournfully complain, in the words of Jerome, con- 
cerning the death of Fabiola : ' The spouse of Christ hath lost 
a most precious jewel.' Or rather, because he shined so bright 
in divine virtues, both in his life and death, we are to rejoice for 
his happy translation. This jewel is not lost, which Christ 
hath taken from off the ring of his spouse, which is his church, 
and set it in a crown of purest gold upon her head, which is 
himself the Saviour of his elect, where he shineth in glory for 
evermore. Lord, adorn and enrich continually thy church with 
such JEWELS ; deck her cheeks with rows of such rubies, and 
her neck with chains ; make her borders of gold, with studs of 
silver. Amen." 

Some other interesting particulars respecting bishop Jewell 
may now be inserted. 

His memory was raised by art to the highest pitch of human 
possibility ; for he could repeat faithfully any thing he had 
penned, as he had penned it, after once reading. By art his 
memory was made so firm in keeping things committed unto it, 
that he was wont to say that if he were to make a premeditated 
speech before a thousand auditors, shouting or fighting all the 
while, yet he could say all that he had provided to speak. 

And so quick also was he in receiving, that when Parkhurst 
proposed unto him many barbarous and hard names out of a 
calendar, and Hooper forty strange words, Welsh, Irish, and 
outlandish terms, he, after once or twice reading at the most, 
and short meditating, repeated them all by heart, backward and 
forward. What is yet more strange, when the lord keeper Bacon 
before the bishop of Norwich and others, at his own table, read 
only unto him the last clause of ten lines in Erasmus's para- 
phrase, confused and dismembered of set purpose, he, sitting 
silent for a while, and covering his face with his hand, on the 
sudden rehearsed all those broken parcels of sentences, the 
right way and the contrary, without any stay or stumbling. 

He professed to teach others this skill, and taught it to his 
tutor, Parkhurst, beyond the sea, insomuch that, spending but 

* Ecclesiastes x\i. 



28 Jewell. — Life, 

one hour in the day in it, in a very short time he learned all 
the gospels backward and forward, by the benefit of this arti- 
ficial memory, setting his places and images in clue. Jewell 
placed a high value on the Institutions of Calvin, which he was 
accustomed to recommend to his friends — by industrious appli- 
cation, he had it almost entirely by heart. 

Though his memory were so great and so improved, yet-he 
would not entirely rely upon it, but entered in common-place 
books whatever he thought he might afterwards have occasion 
to use ; which, as the author of his life informs us, were many m 
number and great in quantity, being a vast treasure of learning 
and a rich repository of knowledge, into which he had collected 
sacred, profane, poetic, philosophic, and divine notes of all 
sorts ; and all these he had again reduced into a small piece or 
two, which were a kind of general indexes. These he made 
use of at all times when he was to speak or write any thing ; 
but they were drawn up in characters for brevity, and thereby 
so obscure that they were not of any use, after his death, to any 
other person. And besides these, he always kept a diary, in 
which he entered whatever he heard or saw that was remark- 
able ; which once a year he perused, and extracted whatever 
was most important. 

From hence it came to pass that when Harding, in their 
great controversy, abounded only in words, Jewell overwhelmed 
him with a cloud of witnesses and citations out of the ancient 
fathers, councils, and church historians; confirming every thing 
with so great a number of incontestable authorities, that Harding 
durst never afler pretend to a second perfect and full answer ; 
but contented himself with snarling at some small pieces. The 
truth is, as Dr. Heylin observes, that all the controvensialists 
that followed were beholden to the indefatigable industry of 
this great leader. Yet he was so careful in the use of his own 
common-place books, that when he was to write jiis Defence of 
the Apology, and his Reply, he would not trust entirely to his 
own excerpts or transcriptions. Having first carefully read 
Harding's books, and marked what he thought deserved an 
answer, ho in the next place drew up the heads of his intended 
answer, and resolved what authorities he would make use of 
upon each head, and then, by the directions of his common- 
place book, read and marked all those passages he had occasion 
to make use of, and delivered them to some scholars to be 
transcribed under their proper heads, that he might have them 
together under his eye, when he came to write. This shows at 
once both iiis indu.^try, fidelity, and modesty, in that he would 
not trust liis own trnnscripts; and is n just reprehension of the 
falsehood of those who knowingly make false citations, and of 
the supine negligence of those who take them up upon trust 
from other men, and use them without any examination; by 
which means great mistakes arc made, and controversies have 



His remarkable memory and learning, 29 

sprung up to the disturbance of the world. The truth is, a man 
ought to re-examine his own thoughts, for what may seem very 
pertinent to any purpose at a first reading, may prove other- 
wise upon second tlioughts, and a close observation of what 
goes betbre or ibilovvs after in the author. And few men are 
so exact in their hrst extracts, but through haste, inadvertence, 
or mistake, they may more or less err and be deceived. Mental 
exertion is also increased by fixing it upon one particular object, 
and the expectation of a conviction from an adversary, if the 
least mistake be made. 

Bishop Jewell was an excellent Grecian, and not unacquainted 
with tlie Italian tongue. As to the Latin, he wrote and spoke 
it with such elegance, politeness, purity, and fluency, that it 
might very well have been taken for his mother tongue. He 
took the right course to be master of it, having made himself 
in his youth perfectly master of Horace, upon whom he wrote a 
large commentary, also Cicero, and Erasmus, whose voluminous 
and excellent works he read over, made extracts from, and 
imitated every day he lived, especially during his continuance at 
Oxford, and he was then wont also to declaim extempore to 
himself in Latin as he walked in the woods of Shotover or other 
secluded places. And when lady Bacon wrote him a letter in 
Greek, he replied in the same language. He was excellently 
read in ail the Greek poets, orators, and historians, especially in 
the ecclesiastical historians; above all others he esteemed 
Gregory. Nazianzen, and quoted him on all occasions. 

His learning was much improved by his exile ; in which, be- 
sides his conversation with Peter Martyr, and the other learned 
men at Strasburg and Zurich, and his society with Sandys, 
atl:erwards archbishop of York, who was his intimate coui- 
panion almost all the time they were in exile, his curiosity led 
him over the Alps into Italy, and he studied some time in 
Padua. By the acquaintance he contracted with signer Scipio, 
a person of note, with whom he afterwards corresponded 
respecting the council of Trent, he seems to have been very 
much esteemed there. 

He was of a pleasant, cheerful humour, extremely civil and 
obliging to all ; but withal of great gravity, and of such strict 
probity and virtue that he extorted from his bitterest enemies 
a confession that he lived the life of an angel. Though he was 
lame, yet till he became a bishop he travelled for the most part 
on foot, both at home and beyond the seas. He was contented 
in every condition ; and endeavoured to make all others so, by 
telling them when he was in exile, that neither would their 
calamity last an age, neither was it reasonable they should bear 
no share of the cross of Christ, when their brethren in England 
fared so much worse. 

He was so extremely grateful to all that had done him good 
that when he could not express his gratitude to Mr. Bowen his 

JEWELL. 4 



30 Jewell—Life. 

schoolmaster, he paid it to his name, and did good to all so 
called, for his sake, though they were not related to him. 

Bishop Jewell was a most laborious preacher, always travel- 
ling about his diocese, and preaching wherever he came. He 
laboured to speak to tlie apprehensions of the people, hating all 
light, trifling discourses and phrases, as beneath the dignity of 
that sacred place.* Yet he was careful in the choice of his 
w^ords, and endeavoured to move the affections of his auditory 
by pathetic and zealous applications, avoiding all high-flown 
expressions, and using a grave and sedate rather than a sweet 
way of speaking. 

In his sermon before the university, preached in the reign of 
king Edward VI., Jewell explained what he considered to be 
the office and duty of a minister of God's word, and in after life 
he manifested the same by his own example. In that discourse 
he showed, 1. That a preacher should speak. He enforced this 
from the words of scripture, and added, Let us do our endea- 
vour, and leave the success unto the Lord. Then shall they if 
they die of so froward a mind that they will not hear, die in 
their own sin. Let us give the word, and God w ill give the 
Spirit. Let us plant and water, and in due time God will give 
the increase. For as it is our duty to instruct the people with 
w^ords, so it belongeth to God to join unto his words faith and 
power. Such is the strength of the word of God, that to work 
nothing or to profit none is not possible. 2. He showed what 
was to be spoken. The truth, not lies; the scriptures, not 
fables ; the precepts of the highest God, not the dreams of men. 
He referred to the words of 8t. Paul, '* I know nothing but 
Jesus Christ, and him crucified.*' — Our heavenly Father would 
have his Son and his w^ord to be taught. This is that river of 
water flowing abroad into lite everlasting. This is that flesh, 
this is that blood of Jesus Christ, this is the only wholesome 
food of our souls, \v'\\\\ this sword only the devil is overcome, 
with this stone only Goliath is laid along, with this maul alone 
the roughness and hardness of hearts is softened and overcome. 
Were it not for this, neither could religion flourish, nor faith be 
confirmed, nor the church kept within the limits of her duty. 
After showiniT the insiTilicicnc}^ of any other ground of confi- 
dence, he added. When we shall be placed before that dreadt'ul 
jndgment-scat, when all things shall burn — we shall then have 
rofii«i;e in Christ alone, then shall wc use the aid and word of 
Christ alone. Our life, our soul, our salvation, is the matter 
in hand. The heavenly Father oflereth himself unto us, and of 
his own accord mecteth us. Jesus Christ calleth every one of 
us, ** Come unto me all ye that are grieved and I will refresh 
you." How blind are wc if we see not, how blockish if we 
hear not, how miserable if we run from this ! Jewell concluded 

• A very affected style began to prevail about that time, by which icnse 
was ^rocjuenlly sacrificed to sound. 



His delineation of a Christian minister, 31 

by showing, 3. How the scriptures should be taught. Here 
he urged upon them, that pastors should have in mind that 
they represented the person of Christ; that being induced 
through the greatness and worthiness of the thing itself, they 
might so reverently do their office, that all men should perceive 
that it is a heavenly business which they have taken upon them. 
For the image of God must shine in him that is the minister of 
God. And if the apostles had not so used themselves, they 
had never laid again the foundations of religion ; there never 
would have been any have left their altars, their sacrifices, 
their fires, and their gods themselves, to be of the opinion of a 
few fishers. They counted all they had as nothing in compa- 
rison of Christ Jesus. Jewell then enlarged upon the example 
lefl by the apostles, adding. That the word of the Lord may be 
set forth worthily, two things are principally to be taken heed 
of, one, that we be not weakened nor enfeebled by fear ; the 
other, that out of the gospel we reap not a jot or piece of praise 
unto ourselves. A preacher's mind must be prepared and 
diligently fenced against either of these. After exhorting to 
courage, he added, A preacher should not have too great a con- 
ceit of himself, but that he think that function and office hath 
happened to him from above, from God ; that he discharge his 
duty diligently, and with very great fear, remembering that he 
is occupied, not in his own business, but in God's business. In 
the holy scriptures they are called, not princes, nor magistrates, 
nor rulers, nor kings, but stewards, preachers or criers, minis- 
ters, servants ; that as we do this in behalf of another, we should 
not grow proud for another's praise. God would not have us 
preachers and criers of our own art and skill, but of his will : 
neither do we for any other cause carry about this treasure in 
earthen vessels, than for that it should be the brightness and 
clear light of the power of God. Such a minister of Christ was 
bishop Jewell, and there were many such among the British 
Reformers. 

He was a man of great moderation ; as appears by his letter 
to Dr. Parkhurst, when bishop of Norwich. " Let your chan- 
cellor, said he, be harder, but you easier; let him wound, but 
do you heal ; let him lance, do you plaster : wise clemency will 
do more good than rigid severity ; one man may move more 
with an engine, than six with the force of their hands. And 
accordingly he would often sit in his own consistory with his 
chancellor, hearing, considering, and sometimes determining 
causes, not thinking it safe to commit all to the sole care and 
fidelity of his chancellor and officials. But though as a justice 
of peace he oflen sate in the courts of quarter sessions, yet there 
he very rarely interposed, except his judgment were desired 
concerning some scruple of religion, or some such like difficulty. 
So exact was his care, not to entangle himself with secular 
affairs; and yet not to be wanting to his duty in any case, 



32 Jewell.— Life. 

He was extremely careful of the revenues of the church, not 
caring" whom he offended to preserve it from being impove- 
rished, in an age when the greatest men, finding the queen not 
over liberal to her courtiers and servants, too ot^en paid them- 
selves out of the church patrimony for the services they had 
done the crown, till they ruined some bishoprics entirely, and 
left others so very poor, that they were scarcely able to maintain 
a prelate. A courtier having" obtained a prebend in the 
church of Salisbury, and intending to let it to another lay- 
person for his best advantage, acquainted bishop Jewell with 
the conditions between them, and some lawyer's opinion about 
them. To which the bishop replied, " What your lawyers may 
answer I know not ; but for my part, to my power, I will take 
care that my church shall sustain no loss whilst I live." 

Though he came to a bishopric miserably impoverished and 
wasted, yet he found means to exercise a prodigious liberality 
and hospitality. For the first, his great expense in the building 
a fair library for his cathedral church, may be an instance. 
This his successor, Dr. Gheast, furnished with books. 

His doors stood always open to the poor, and he would fre- 
quently send charitable relief to prisoners. Nor did he confine 
his bounty to Englishmen only, but was liberal to foreigners, 
aud especially to those of Zurich, and the friends of Peter 
Martyr. Perceiving the g-reat want of learned men in his times, 
his greatest care was to have ever with him in his house several 
poor lads whom he brought up in learning. He took much 
delight to hear them dispute points of grammar-learning in 
Latin at his table when he was at his meal, improving them 
and pleasing himself at the same time. Besides these, he 
maintained in the university several young students, allowing 
them yearly pensions; and whenever they came to visit him, 
rarely dismissing them without liberal gratuities. Amongst 
these was the famous Richard Hooker his countryman, whose 
parents being poor, he must have been bound apprentice to a 
trade hut for the bounty of this good bishop, who allowed his 
parents a yearly pension towards his maintenance, near seven 
years before he was fit for the university. In the year 1567 he 
appointed him to remove to Oxford, and there to attend Dr. Cole, 
then president of Corpus Christi college, who, according to his 
promise to tiic bishop, provided him a tutor, and a clerk's place 
in that college; which, with a contribution from his uncle John 
Hooker, and the continued pension of his patron the bishop, gave 
him a comfortable subsistence. In the last year of the bishop's 
life, Il<x)kor making this his patron a visit at his palace, tlie good 
bishop made him, and a companion he had with him, dine at his 
own table, which Hooker boasted of with much joy and gratitude, 
when he saw his mother and friends, to whom he was then 
travelling on foot. The bishop when he parted with him, gave 
him good counsel and his blessing, but forgot to give him money, 



His liberality, 33 

which when he bethought himself of, he sent a servant to call 
him back again, and then told him, " I sent for you, Richard, to 
lend you a horse which hath carried me many a mile, and I 
thank God with much ease." And presently delivered into his 
hand a walking-staff, with which he professed he had travelled 
many parts of Germany. He then went on and said, " Richard, 
I do not give, but lend you my horse ; be sure you are honest 
and bring my horse back to me at your return this way to Oxford. 
And I do now give you ten groats to bear your charges to Exeter ; 
and here is ten groats more which I charge you to deJiver to 
your mother. Tell her, I send her a bishop's blessing with it, 
and beg the continuance of her prayers for me. If you bring 
my horse back to me, I will give you ten more to carry you on 
foot to the college ; and so God bless you good Richard." Not 
long after this, the good bishop died, but before his death he had 
so effectually recommended Hooker to Edwin Sandys then 
bishop of London, and afterwards archbishop of York, that he 
put his son under the tutelage of Hooker, and was so liberal to 
him, that he became one of the most learned men of the age. 

To return to bishop Jewell ; he had collected an excellent 
library of books of all sorts, not excepting the most impertinent 
of the popish authors. Here he spent the greatest and the best 
part of his time, rarely appearing abroad, especially in a morn- 
ing, till eight o'clock ; so that till that time it was not easy to 
speak with him ; when commonly he ate some slight thing for 
the support of his thin body ; and then, if no business diverted 
him, retired to his study again till dinner. 

He maintained a plentiful, but sober table, and though at it 
he ate very little himself, yet he took care his guests might be 
well supplied, entertaining them in the mean time with much 
pleasant and useful discourse, telling and hearing any kind of 
innocent and diverting stories. For though he was a man 
great and exact, both in piety and virtue, yet he was not of a 
morose, sullen, unsociable temper, and his hospitality was equally 
bestowed upon both foreigners and Englishmen. After dinner 
he heard causes, if any came in ; and dispatched any business 
that belonged to him, though he would sometimes do this at 
dinner also ; and answered any questions, and very often arbi- 
trated and composed differences betwixt his people, who knowing 
his great wisdom and integrity, did very often refer themselves 
to him as the sole arbitrator, where they met with speedy, im- 
partial, and unchargeable justice. At nine at night he called 
all his servants about him, examined how they had spent their 
time that day, commended some, and reproved others, as 
occasion served, and then closed the day with prayers, as he 
began it. The time of his public morning prayers seems to 
have been eight o'clock. 

After this, he commonly went to his study Ugain, and from 
thence to bed, his gentlemen reading some part of an author to 

4* 



34 Jewell. — Life, 

him, to compose his mind, and then committing himself to his 
God and Saviour, he betook himself to his rest. 

JewelPs principal writings have been noticed in the preceding 
pages. In the present day we cannot form an adequate idea 
of the importance of his controversial works against the papists 
at that period, when the whole of Europe was agitated by war- 
fare, caused by the intrigues of the papacy, and promoted by the 
industrious defence of its principles. His work, the defence of 
the apology, in particular, should be studied by all who wish to 
become acquainted with this important subject. A copy of that 
work was ordered by queen Elizabeth, king James I., Charles 
I., and four archbishops, to be chained in every parish church, 
with a large bible, and Fox's Acts and Monuments, so that the 
people might read them at all convenient times. 

Some others of Jewell's works will be found more generally 
interesting at the present day ; among these the principal is the 
Exposition of the Epistles to the Thessalonians, which has been 
justly characterized as " worth its weight in gold." It was, 
however, a posthumous publication, having been edited by Dr. 
John Garbrand, a divine whom he much esteemed, to whom 
he left his unpublished papers and manuscripts. Garbrand pub- 
lished from them the Exposition of the Epistles to the Thessalo- 
nians — the View of a seditious Bull — A short Treatise of the 
Holy Scriptures — Six Sermons preached at Paul's cross, before 
the queen — and a Treatise of the Sacraments. These, with 
Jewell's other works, were collected and published in a folio 
volume in 1609 and 1611, and are now reprinting (1830) by the 
university of Oxford. Some other pieces were left in manu- 
script by bishop Jewell. Among them are enumerated the 
following, — An Exposition of the Epistles and Gospels through- 
out the year — An Exposition of the Creed, Lord's Prayer, and 
Ten Commandments — A Comment on the Epistles of St. Peter, 
and on the Epistle to the Galatians.* 

* Wood, in his Athenae Oxonienses, states that all books and papers 
left by bishop Jewell to Dr. Garbrand were given by the latter to Dr. 
R. Chaloner and Dr. John Rainolds. Dihgcnt inquiry has been made 
for these comments on the episdcs of Peter and to the Galatians, in 
the hope of adding them to this collection, but without success. 




graved iy ,J.Sarta/K 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF 

JOHN FOX, 

The Martyrologist. 



JOHN FOX, or FOXE, was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, 
A. D. 1517, the year wherein Luther began publicly to oppose 
the errors of popery in Germany. While Fox was very young 
his father died and his mother married again. He remained 
under the care of his father-in-law till the age of sixteen, when 
he was entered of Brazen-Nose College, Oxford, where Dr. 
No well, afterwards dean of St. Paul's, was his chamber-fellow. 
There Fox studied with much assiduity, and showed his abilities 
especially in Latin poetry. In 1538 he took the degree of 
bachelor of arts, and of master in 1543, which year he was 
chosen fellow of Magdalen college. From early youth Fox had 
been strongly attached to popish superstitions, but was ever 
remarkable for a regular and moral life. He strongly opposed 
the doctrine of justification by faith in the imputed righteous- 
ness of Christ, thinking himself secure enough by the imaginary 
merits of his own self-denial, penances, almsdeeds, and strict 
attention to the rites of the church. 

But he was not permitted long to remain in this state. He 
was naturally of an inquiring disposition ; by such a character 
the gross impositions then common in the Romish church could 
not long be approved. His son states he had often heard his 
father affirm, that the first matter which occasioned him to 
search respecting popish doctrine was,' perceiving divers things, 
in their own nature most repugnant to one another, thrust upon 
men at one time, both to be believed — as that the same man 
might be superior in matters of faith, and yet his life and 
manners inferior to all the world beside. This and other in- 
consistencies shook the blind obedience of Fox to the church 
of Rome. 

He now began to study ecclesiastical history, both ancient and 
modern ; to consider the reasons for the increase and decline of 
the church ; what causes promoted the first, and what errors 
occasioned the latter; diligently examining the controversies 
which had sprung up in successive ages. 

Fox was an indefatigable student; when his mind was bent 
to any subject he pursued it with uncommon ardour and patient 
perseverance. By the time he was thirty years of age he had 



X John Fox, — Life, 

read the writings of the Greek and Latin fathers, the disputa- 
tions of the schoolmen, the acts of the councils and decrees of 
the consistories. These, but especially a thorough acquaintance 
with the scriptures in the original tongues, led him to discern 
the errors of popery and to seek the only way of salvation. 

This change appears to have taken place about the time when 
Fox removed to Magdalen college. His son relates, **By the 
report of some who were fellow students with him, he used, be- 
sides his day's exercises, to bestow whole nights at his study, or 
not to betake himself to rest till very late. Near the college 
was a grove where for the pleasantness of the place the students 
used to walk, and spend some hours in recreation. This place, 
and the dead time of night, master Fox chose, with the solemnity 
of darkness and solitude, to confirm his mind, which, as a newly 
enlisted soldier, trembled at the guilt of a new imagination." 
To forsake the errors of popery then was no light affair. It 
involved many dangers; the loss of friends and preferment, nay 
death itself, might almost be reckoned a certain consequence. 

The son proceeds: — "How many nights he watched in these 
solitary walks, what combats and wrestlings he suffered within 
himself, how many heavy sighs, sobs, and tears, he poured forth 
with his prayers to almighty God, I had rather be spared, lest it 
savour of ostentation. But of necessity it was to be remembered, 
because from thence sprang the first suspicion of his alienated 
affections. For no sooner was the fame spread of his nightly 
retirements, but the more understanding sort out of their own 
wisdom, others according as they stood inclined towards him, 
interpreted all to the worst sense. At length some were em- 
ployed, who under pretence to admonish him, might observe his 
walks, and pry into his words and actions. These wanted not 
others to aggravate the facts. Why should he not come to 
church so often as he had been accustomed? Why should he 
shun the company of his equals, and refuse to recreate himself 
in his accustomed manner?" 

Having thus fallen under suspicion of heresy, and his singular 
openness and sincerity disdaining to attempt any hypocritical 
concealment, Fox was removed from his fellowship, or found it 
advisable to resign and leave Oxford. But farther troubles 
awaited him. The profession of the gospel at that time, usually 
excited those discordant feelings in families spoken of by our 
Lord, Matt. x. 34 — 3(3. When the rage of bipotry was stirred 
up it oflcn proceeded to the most unwarrantable lengths. It 
did so in this case. The father-in-law of Fox, enraged at the 
change in his views, and knowing that one reputed a heretic then 
liad no remedy against injustice, withheld his patrimony. 

The events recorded of the history of the next few years in 
the life of Fox are not very clearly arranged as to dates, but it 
appears that being driven from his natural home, he found a 
refuge in the family of sir Thomas Lucy, a respectable knight of 
Warwickshire, by whom he was employed as tutor. During his 



His distress, — Tutor to the duke of Norfolk's children, xi 

abode there, he married the daughter of a citizen of Coventry. 
His departure from this situation was hastened by the inquisi- 
tions which the papists began to make into private families. 
For a time he seems to have found shelter with his wife's father, 
and also with his mother's husband ; but the assistance rendered 
him was small. His son states that by these means he kept 
himself concealed, but that he always forbore to speak of this 
part of his story, not wishing to notice the lack of kindness from 
his relatives as their conduct deserved. 

About the end of the reign of Henry VIH. or the com- 
mencement of that of Edward VI. Fox removed to London. The 
rage of persecution was then abated, but having no regular em- 
ployment, his scanty means were soon exhausted. His biographer 
relates a singular incident which befell him at this time. 

" As master Fox one day sat in Paul's church,* spent with 
long fasting, his countenance thin and eyes hollow, after the 
ghastful manner of dying men ; every one shunning a spectacle 
of so much horror, there came to him one whom he never re- 
membered to have seen before ; who sitting by him and saluting 
him with much familiarity, thrust an untold sum of money into 
his hand, bidding him be of good cheer ; adding that he knew 
not how great were the misfortunes which oppressed him, but 
suspected it was no light calamity. He should, therefore, accept 
in good part from his countryman that small gift which courtesy 
enforced him to offer ; he should go and make much of himself, 
and take all occasions to prolong his life ; adding, that within a 
few days new hopes were at hand, and a more certain condition 
of livelihood." Fox never could learn to whom he was indebted 
for this relief, though he earnestly endeavoured to ascertain. 
Some believed that the bearer was sent by others who were 
anxious for the welfare of Fox. However that might be, in a 
few days he was invited to reside with the duchess of Rich- 
mond, to become tutor to the grandsons of the duke of Norfolk, 
then a prisoner in the Tower. With this family Fox lived at 
Ryegate till after the death of Edward VI. having under his 
charge Thomas, afterwards duke of Norfolk, Henry, afterwards 
earl of Northampton, and Jane, countess of Westmoreland ; all 
of whom made considerable progress under his tuition. Herein 
was a remarkable instance of the interference of divine provi- 
dence ; the old duke of Norfolk was a papist, but the duchess of 

* The body of St. Paul's church at that period, and long after, was 
the daily resort of great numbers of people, especially of those who 
had business to transact, or were in search of employment. Crowds 
of idlers of every description were also seen there, and the buzz of 
conversation, according to the descriptions given by contemporary 
writers, seems to have exceeded that of the Royal Exchange when 
fullest at the present day. " He is as well known as the middle walk 
in Paul's," was a common proverb. A description of London by 
Lupton in the following century, contains an allusion to " the dinner- 
less pedestrians" who frequented St. Paul's church, in the hope of 
finding some one who would invite them to a dinner. 



xii John Fox, — Life. 

Richmond, the aunt to the late earl of Surrey, was favourably in- 
clined to the truth. During his residence at Ryegate, Fox did 
not confine his labours to the family wherein he was tutor. On 
June 24, 1550, he received ordination from bishop Ridley ; at 
that time he was living with the duchess of Suffolk. From a 
dedication to the translation of his Christ Triumphant, by 
Richard Day, afterwards himself minister of Ryegate, it also ap- 
pears that Fox preached the gospel in that neighbourhood, and 
was instrumental to the removal of popish idolatries. Day, 
addressing himself to the earl of Northampton, son of one of 
Fox's pupils, says, 

" In the time of his youth, and under the wings of that great 
lord of Reigate, Thomas duke of Norfolk, he may be truly said 
to plant the gospel of Jesus Christ there ; to that work he was 
encouraged and maintained, without fee or salary from any other 
than of your honourable house of Howard. To their great ho- 
nour be it spoken, he was the first man that ever preached the 
gospel in that place, even when idolatry was yet in great 
strength. Exceedingly did his free and voluntary labours fruc- 
tify among them, for many were there converted from darkness 
to the light, and from the power of Satan unto God ; witness 
thereof, the old superstitious and idolatrous lady of Ouldsworth, 
an image, or idol saint, who was worshipped at Reigate, in place 
of God, for her miraculous power of saving health. Ouldsworth 
was an honourable name among the old English Saxons : there 
are of the name in London to this hour ; but this old saint lost 
her name, her place, her power, and friarly false miracles there, 
through the ministry of this good man." 

That any one instrumental to such a work should have been pa- 
tronised by the ducal family of Norfolk is surprising, but we may 
remember that the Reformation was then countenanced by au- 
thority, and the family appear to have entertained a strong per- 
sonal regard for Fox. 

An undeniable proof of this regard was manifested soon after 
the accession of queen Mary. The measures in progress for the 
resioration of popery and the persecution of the protestants, 
caused Fox to think of following his friends into exile, but the 
young duke was unwilling that Fox should leave him, thinking 
his honour was concerned to protect his tutor. Fox knew this 
proceeded from sincere feelings of regard, and said it was indeed 
for the duke's lionour so to act, but it was his duty to take care 
that the duke should not be involved in trouble on his account. 
The matter did not remain long in suspense. One so active 
against image worship, in the diocese of Gardiner, could not 
escape the notice of that bigoted papist, who was intimate with the 
family, and several times requested to see the tutor. His designs 
were suspected. The old duke died September, 1554, and had 
been succeeded by his grandson, the pupil of Fox, who being 



Persecuted by Gardiner. — Escapes to the continent, xiii 

anxious for the safety of his preceptor, made excuses to keep 
him from the sight of Gardiner. But one day Fox, not knowing 
Gardiner was at the house, entered the room. On seeing the bishop 
he quickly withdrew ; Gardiner inquired who that was, the duke 
said it was his physician, who being newly come from the uni- 
versity, was somewhat uncourtly. " I like his countenance and 
aspect well," said the bishop, " and when occasion shall be, will 
make use of him." The duke knew what that occasion would 
be, and concluded it was no longer safe for Fox to remain in 
England.. He sent a servant to Ipswich to hire a bark, while a 
retreat was provided for Fox, accompanied by his wife, at a 
farmer's house near the sea-shore, till all was ready. They had 
scarcely put to sea when a contrary wind arose ; after beating 
about the next night and the following day, in the evening they 
regained the port they had left. As soon as Fox landed he was 
informed that a pursuivant from the bishop of Winchester had 
searched the farmer's house for him, but after following him to 
the port, and finding the vessel was out of sight, he had de- 
parted. Upon this Fox took horse and left the town, but 
returning in the night he persuaded the pilot again to set sail, 
and after a rough passage of two days was landed safely at 
Nieuport in Flanders. " An evident argument," as Samuel Fox 
observes, " of the certain course of providence and the uncer- 
tainty of all human forecast." 

From Nieuport Fox proceeded to Antwerp, and from thence 
to Basle, where at that time many of the English refugees were 
kindly received. The city of Basle was celebrated for superiority 
in the art of printing. Fox, and some of his countrymen found 
employment in correcting the press, and other literary labours 
connected therewith. 

Here Fox engaged with Oporinus, a celebrated printer, to 
whom he presented the first sketch of his history of the church. 
It was written in Latin, and accompanied by a letter to Oporinus, 
in which he desired to be received into his service, and that 
Oporinus would vouchsafe to be his learned patron, under whom 
he might pursue his studies, being one that would be content 
with a small salary ; and if he would employ him there, or at 
Strasburg, or at some university, which latter he would prefer, 
"either," added he, "I will be destitute of all things, or, by 
the help of Christ, I will cause that all men of literature shall 
know how much they are indebted to the name and to the press 
of Oporinus." 

While employed as corrector of the press. Fox continued his 
studies ; he especially laboured at his great work on ecclesiastical 
history, which he compiled at first in Latin. Several publications 
containing parts of it, were set forth by him, among them were 
Philpot's examinations. He wrote an earnest address to the 
nobility of England, beseeching them to desist from the cruelties 
then practised towards the protestants. He also translated 
Cranmer's answer to Gardiner on the sacrament. The printing 

FOX. 2 



xiv John Fox, — Life. 

of this was begun in 1557, but upon<;onsideration it was thought 
more advisable to stop the progress of the work on account of 
the bitterness with which the sacramental controversy at that 
time raged in Germany and Switzerland. In a letter to Peter 
Martyr, Fox complains much of the difficulty he experienced 
from the studied obscurity of Gardiner's style. He says, " I 
never saw any thing more unpleasant, rough, and entangled, than 
Winchester's discourse ; wherein sometimes he is so full of depths 
that he needs some sibyl rather than an interpreter. In the 
third book there are one or two places where you may sooner 
extract water from a pumice-stone than find light from the sen- 
tence." An instance of the craft for which Gardiner was so 
remarkable. 

In this work, Grindal, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, 
gave Fox considerable assistance, also in the more important 
labour of his Martyrology. Grindal then resided principally at 
Strasburg, and was able to maintain a constant correspondence 
with England, by which means he obtained many accounts of the 
examinations and sufferings of the martyrs. These he conveyed 
to Fox, to arrange and insert in his work. Many letters which 
passed between them are extant ; they show, as Strype observes, 
" a most tender regard to truth and suspending upon common 
reports and relations brought over, till more satisfactory evidence 
came from good hands." With one letter Grindal sent Fox two 
dollars, from the monies remitted out of England to assist for 
supporting the martyrs. In these works Fox was also assisted 
and encouraged by Aylmer, tutor to Lady Jane Grey, afterwards 
bishop of London, and by other English divines. 

Fox was engaged in more painful transactions while on the 
continent, namely, the disputes which arose among the exiles, 
respecting certain matters of ecclesiastical discipline and the use 
of the English liturgy. The particulars of these differences need 
not be entered into here : they are to befound in the work 
entitled the Troubles of Frankfort, and in Strype. 

Fox deeply regretted the lengths to which matters proceeded. 
In a letter to Peter Martyr, written from Frankfort, he says that 
these disputes had made them unfruitful nearly the whole 
winter; he attributes much to the youth and inexperience of 
some who engaged in the controversies. "I have discovered 
what otherwise I could not have believed, how much bitterness is 
to be found among those whom continual acquaintance with the 
sacred volume ought to render gentle, and incline to all kindness. 
As far as in me lies, I persuade parties to concord." After 
stating the substance of the advice he had given, he adds, " Our 
last anchor is cast upon Christ himself, who for his mercy's sake 
will deign to turn our hearts to those things which make for 
peace and real tranquillity." Ilis main endeavour was to be a 
peace maker, and to persuade both parties to concord. In this 
he appears to have partly prevailed, so fiir as to induce them to 
debate the matter more mildly by letter and conference. He 



His employments while in exile, xv 

also urged Peter Martyr to settle at Frankfort, as lecturer on 
divinity to the English, which might induce them to collect 
there. 

Part of a letter written by Fox about this period, to a person 
and his wife that left England under queen Mary,* is as follows : 

*' The grace of God in Jesus Christ, which aideth, governeth, 
and conducteth all such in truth as put their confidence in him, 
be multiplied upon you and your virtuous yokefellow, that as by 
the holy institution of the Lord, ye are called to be one flesh, so, 
by faith you being one in mind, may, in the unity of Christ's 
spirit, like true yokefellows, bear the cross with patience, and 
follow our guide and fore-leader, Christ Jesus. Amen. 

" When I understood, by your friendly letters sent to my brother, 
what our good God and most sweet Father hath done for you 
and other members of his mystical body, in delivering you out of 
that miserable land, from the danger of idolatry and fearful 
company of Herodians; I was compelled, with a glad heart, to 
render unto his Divine Majesty most humble thanks, beseeching 
him that as he hath delivered you from their contagious venom 
and deathly sting with a safe conscience, so he will vouchsafe to 
protect and preserve it still undefiled. To forsake your country, 
to despise your commodities at home, to contemn riches, and to set 
naught by honours v/hich the whole world hath in great venera- 
tion, for the love of the sweet gospel of Christ, are not works of 
the flesh, but the most assured fruits of the Holy Ghost, and unde- 
ceivable arguments of your regeneration, or new birth, whereby 
God certifieth you that ye are justified in him, and sealed to 
eternal life. And therefore ye have great cause to be thankful ; 
first that he hath chosen you to life, and, secondly, that he 
hath given you his Holy Spirit, which hath altered and changed 
you into a new creature, working in you through the word such 
a mind, that these things are not painful but pleasant unto 
you. Again, to be delivered from the bondage of conscience, 
from the " 

The labours of Fox while in exile were very severe ; his son 
speaks of him " as having been inured to hardness from his 
3'outh, therefore labour, and what to others seemed the greatest 
misery, to suffer want, to sit up late, and to keep hard diet, gave 
him no concern." He adds, " This may appear strange to many 
who remember master Fox to have been all his life long but a 
slender bodied man, and in his elder years somewhat sickly. 
But let no man compare his old age, worn out and eaten up with 
cares, and even by the course of nature ruinous, with the flourish- 

* This fragment of a letter is among the Harleian manuscripts in 
the British Museum. It does not show to whom the letter was ad- 
dressed, but as it was to a person and his wife who are described as 
setting honours at naught for the sake of rehgion, it may have been 
the Hon. Robert BertFe and his wife the duchess of Suffolk, whose 
escape is narrated by Fox in the Acts and Monuments. 



xvi John Fox, — Life. 

ing prime of his youth, which by so many of his works appears to 
have been most healthful."* 

The time for the deliverance of England at length came. 
Queen Mary died in November 1558. Of this event Fox had a 
remarkable preintimation. On the day previous to that of her 
decease he was preaching to his fellow exiles at Basle, when he 
told them to be of good comfort ; for the time drew near when 
they should be restored to their own country, and said that he 
told them this, being warned of God to do so. Some of the 
elder divines reproved Fox for speaking thus, but the event 
showed that he was justified. Aylmer was among the persons 
present on this occasion. 

Most of the exiles hastened home, but Fox remained at Basle 
till the following year ; this delay seems to have been partly 
caused by the difficulty of his removing his family, a wife and 
two children, in his low circumstances ; and having a settled em- 
ployment he was unwilling to quit it until there appeared a 
good prospect of matters being settled at home. Also, during a 
part of the time he was engaged in superintending the early Latin 
edition of his Acts and Monuments. Grindal and Sampson 
considered this his best course. The former, when setting out 
for England on the 19th of December, 1558, wrote to Fox that 
he had better, for a short time, suspend the further preparation 
of the great work he had in hand, as many additional materials 
would now come to light. 

Fox rejoiced at the important change. He was the author of 
an elegant Latin address to queen Elizabeth, printed at Basle by 
Oporinus, in 1559, where, in the name of the German nation, the 
queen is congratulated on her accession to the throne ; and after 
speaking of the refuge afforded to the English exiles on the con- 
tinent, good counsel is given to her majesty and her court, with 
good advice to the preachers. Another tract, an expression of 
thanksgiving on the part of the English exiles, was printed 
about the same time. Fox also wrote and printed a letter to the 
duke of Norfolk, his former pupil, full of excellent counsel rela- 
tive to the hopeful prospect of religion, and congratulated him 
on his own good fortune in tlie recovery of his title and estates. 

We find, however, that Fox had returned to London in Oc- 
tober, 1559 ; and from a Latin letter ho then wrote to the duke of 
Norfolk, printed by Strype, the copy of which is still extant 
among the Foxian manuscripts in the British Museum, he evi- 
dently was in the same distressed state with many of his brethren. 
From this letter it would appear that it was as yet hardly safe for 
men of rank to notice the poor exiles. The letter is as follows : 

" I have so often written to your highness, that I am ashamed 
to trouble you with more letters. Yet I so well know the inge- 

* Tho extracts from the life of Fox, by his son Samuel, given in 
these pncep. arc slicihtly condensed, as that work, though containing 
much vahml)le matter, is written in the verbose and gencralizng style 
then prevalent, so as to be wearisome to the reader. 



Correspondence with the duke of Norfolk, xvii 

nuous kindness of your disposition, that I am persuaded there 
would be no necessity for my petition, if will only was needful. 
But perhaps these times present impediments, hindering you 
from sending to us, and me from venturing to urge my requests to 
you. I cannot think that it is from forgetfulness of us, or from 
any undue feelings of your own importance, that for so long a 
period you have not sent assistance to us. But whatever may be 
the cause why your liberality has thus ceased, this I know, my 
beloved Thomas, that it is most easy for you, possessing such 
abundance of all things, to impart some small pension to us from 
your large expenditure. More earnest intreaties would be need- 
ful where there was less disposition to confer benefits, but you 
always appeared more ready to bestow of your own accord, than 
on account of the prayers of others. And I think that my dis- 
position is well known to you, as so averse to importunate craving, 
that I would sooner perish with hunger. 

" That I have not yet dedicated any work to you, has proceeded 
rather from fear of endangering you, than from my own will, as, 
if God permit, you shall hereafter perceive. 

" Concerning religion, I need not admonish you where the 
truth stands; God grant that you may stand manfully with the 
truth. Have respect thereunto in the first place, and if at this 
juncture you cannot help Christ, let no mortal ever prevail on 
you to be an adversary against him in any thing, for at length he 
will prevail, though all should oppose. You will do wisely if 
you employ that time in the reading of the scriptures, which 
others bestow on pomps and pastimes of the court." 

The duke's reply, dated SOth October, 1559, also written in 
Latin, was a'fe follows : " I have received your letters, my ex- , 
cellent preceptor, from whence I learn your affection towards me, 
and prize it highly. If the return of my servants had not pre- 
ceded my letters, you should have been with me long since. For 
I wrote to them that they should so provide you with all things, 
that you might speedily come to me, and this would have been 
done had they not returned sooner than I expected. Now, since 
I shall myself soon be in London, I would that you should await 
me there, when, as I desire and as I ought, I shall look to you. 
In the mean time farewell. 

" To my right loving schoolmaster, John Fox." . 

The duke appears to have fulfilled his promises ; he took Fox 
into his house in London, where the martyrologist resided for 
some time ; probably till the duke was involved in troubles from 
those secret negotiations with Mary queen of Scots, which 
brought him to the scaffold in 1572. Fox and Nowell attended 
him at the place of execution, where he confessed that he had 
acted contrary to his duty and allegiance. The duke had been 
suspected of an inclination to popery ; this he disavowed, and 
at the solemn hour of his departure he expressly declared, 
" As touching my religion I have been suspected to be a papist. 
I must confess that divers of my familiar friends, and divers of 

2* 



xviii John Fox. — Life, 

my servants and officers under me, were papists. But what 
meanings I had in it, God, who seeth above, knovveth it. For 
myself, God is my witness, I have always been a protestant, and 
never did allow of their blind and fond ceremonies. And now, 
before God and you all I utterly renounce the pope and his 
popedom, which I have always done, and will do to my life's 
end. And as to that which is the chiefest point of our belief — I 
believe and trust to be saved by faith in Jesus Christ only, and 
by none other means. For if 1 did, I should be greatly deceived 
at this instant." 

There appears every reason to believe that the duke was op- 
posed to popery ; even so far as to be inclined to favour the 
puritans. He cared anxiously for the religious education of his 
children, as appears from an epistle of Dering and Hansby, two 
of his chaplains, prefixed to a book of prayers composed for their 
use, by his command. He was at that time one of the most 
powerful noblemen in England, and in high favour with queen 
Elizabeth. These things render his attachment to Mary queen 
of Scots the more extraordinary, but the influence of many of his 
near kinsmen, who were bigoted papists, probably assisted this 
infatuation towards that accomplished but infamous woman.* 

Queen Elizabeth was very unwilling that the duke should 
suffer ; she caused him to be respited for several months, but the 
state of political affairs, and the designs of the papists against 
her, caused her counsellors to be urgent in pressing his execu- 
tion. Fox had faithfully warned the duke of the dangers which 
were likely to result from this correspondence, as appears by a 
letter from him to his former pupil,f extant in the British Mu- 
seum. The duke left Fox a small pension. 

Richard Day, son of the printer, speaks thus of the shelter 
afforded to Fox by the duke : " When he returned he found suc- 
cour from his most bounteous, most charitable, and most princely 
lord, who gave him free and present entertainment and dwelling 
for him and his, at his manor-place of Christ's Church, by 
Aldgate. From that his house, he travelled weekly every Mon- 
day, to the printing house of John Day. In that, my fjither's house, 
many days and years, and infinite sums of money, were spent to 
accomplish and consmnmato his English Monuments, and other 
many excellent works in English and Latin." 

These writings will be noticed on a future page, but the im- 
portant results to Fox himself, from his intimate connexion with 
John Day, and the still more important influence on the cause 

* Thr if-adtT will find an account of the dnkc's correspondence with 
Mary quern of Scots in ninny historians. It is nt^crssary. however, 
to warn liiin airainst those who manif«»st a partiality for that wretched 
ft'niale. Of late it lias hecoine too coinniou to cast a veil over tlie 
crimes of Mary, and to call her vices by tjentle names, but no one can 
become fully acquainted with the history of the Reformation, without 
feeling deep re^^ret that her character is not more correctly estimated 
by historians in general. 

t " Dissuading nim from marrying Mary queen of Scots." 



John Day, the printer, xix 

of truth and the gospel, requires a distinct notice of that extra- 
ordinary printer, whose proceedings were exceedingly beneficial 
in forwarding the English Reformation. 

John Day was a native of Suffolk, and commenced business 
as a printer in London, probably in 1547. About 1549, he re- 
moved to Aldersgate, where, as Stow relates, he built much upon 
the wall of the city towards St. Ann's church. He had also 
shops for the sale of his books in other parts of the town, parti- 
cularly at the little conduit, which was in Cheapside, just at the 
end of Paternoster-row. During the reign of Edward VI. his 
press was actively employed in printing the scriptures, and many 
writings of the British reformers. Herein he showed his zeal 
against popery, even then at considerable hazard to himself* 
When queen Mary came to the throne. Day's labours of course 
were suspended. He appears to have spent this reign partly as a 
prisoner in Newgate,f partly as an exile, and partly in retire- 
ment, employing himself in bringing his art to greater perfection. 
He was the first printer in the Saxon character, and much 
improved English typography.| His books in particular display 
a great variety of devices of wood and metal. After the acces- 
sion of queen Elizabeth, Day resumed his operations with in- 
creased activity. The catalogue of books printed by him include 
the most extensive and valuable publications of that period in 
general literature and science, as well as history and theology. 
Many of them were costly and splendid specimens of typography. 
The unceasing kindness and attention Day received from arch- 
bishop Parker, is decisive evidence to his character and abilities. 

* In the commencement of this reign, Day printed Luke's poetical 
dialogue between John Boon and Master Person, written against the 
popish sacrament, and exposing the ignorance and superstition of the 
priests. The papists made such representations of this book, that the 
mayor sent for Day, and was about to treat him with severity, when 
Underbill, one of the king's guard, came to the mayor upon business. 
The mayor kept Underbill to dinner, when speaking about the book, 
the latter told him it was a good book, that he had a copy, and there 
were many others in the court. He gave it the mayor, who being 
thus better informed of the contents allowed poor Day, then sitting 
at a side board, to return home instead of committing him to prison as 
he had intended. 

t See Rogers, p. 35. 

\ The importance of the increased attention Day bestowed upon 
the execution of the works committed to his press, may appear from 
the words of Bale, in the preface to the second part of his Ima^e of 
both Churches, printed about 1550, who stating his reasons for discon- 
tinuing the marginal references to the scriptures and authors which 
he had given in his first part, assigns as the first, "the printers, 
whose heady haste, negligence, and covetousness, usually corrupts all 
books. These have both displaced them, and also changed their 
numbers to the derogation of the truth, though they had at their hands 
two learned correctors who took all pains possible to preserve them." 
In looking at most of the early printed editions of the writings of the 
Reformers, the number of typographical errors, often affecting the 
sense, will be found very considerable • they make reprints literally 
conformable to those editions far from desirable. 



XX John Fox. — Life, 

For the valuable history of Hollinshed, the Acts and Monuments, 
the collected editions of Becon, the writings of Tindal, and many 
others, we are indebted to this printer, whose enterprising spirit 
was united with earnest desire to diffuse gospel light and truth. 
The list of books printed by Day, as given by Ames and Herbert, 
contains almost all the valuable literature of that age. Day 
possessed in Fox an invaluable assistant to edit the principal 
works he published, while Fox had in Day a printer anxious to 
encourage his exertions to the utmost. 

Strype relates that Day found himself the object of envy to 
his fraternity, who hindered what they could the sale of his 
books. In 1572 he had a considerable quantity on hand, where- 
upon his friends procured for him the lease of a small shop to 
be set up near the west end of St Paul's cathedral. But, as 
Strype proceeds, " his brethren the booksellers envied him, and 
by their interest got the mayor and aldermen to forbid him from 
setting it up, though they had nothing to do there but by power." 
Upon this the archbishop interceded with the lord treasurer for 
the queen's letters, that Day might go forward with his building, 
whereby, he said, his honour would deserve well of Christ's 
church, and of the prince and state. The archbishop also urged 
that the privy council had lately written to him and the other 
ecclesiastical commissioners, to help Day, perhaps in vending 
his books, and encouraging the clergy to buy them. 

Afler this. Day seems to have continued his exertions with 
success till his death in 1584. If much of the progress of the 
Reformation is to be attributed, as means, to the art of printing, 
assuredly Day must not be forgotten as one to whom we are 
deeply indebted for the right application of that invaluable disco- 
very in our own land.* 

To return to our immediate subject : 

Part of the early period after Fox's return to England seems 
to have been passed at Norwich, where his son Samuel was born 
in 1560. The friendship of Parkhurst, then bishop of that see, 
doubtless occasioned his residence there. It is, however, but too 
evident, that for some time afler his return Fox remained in a 
very destitute condition. When Humphrey, his fellow collegian, 
was appointed president of Magdalen college, Fox began a con- 
gratulatory letter to him, which, however, he cancelled, pro- 
bably from unwillingness to describe his own wants, or to 

* The homely lines on his monument may he added, 

Here lyes the Daye that darkness could not blind, 
When popish foggea had overeaste the sunne ; 
This Daye the cruell ni<zhte did leave behind, 
To view, and show what l)l(Hli acts were donne; 
He set a Fox to vvrii^ht how martyrs runne 
Hy deetli to lyfe. Fox ventured j)aynes and health 
To qive tlieni light; Daye spent in print his wealtli. 
But (iod with cayne relumed his wealth agayne, 
And gave to him, as he fjave to the puore. 

The reader should here be reminded of Fox's own remarks on the 
value of the art of printing. 



His laborious studies, xxi 

address any one in a tone of levity on such a subject. He 
there called Humphrey to account for leaving "their mendi- 
cant order." He says, "Are you not ashamed of being such a 
fugitive ] You ought to have taken example of greater constancy 
by me, who still wear the same clothes, and remain in the same 
sordid condition as when I first returned to England from Ger- 
many ;" about two years before. 

From the time of his return to England, Fox requires our at- 
tention in various characters. The first and principal is, as the 
hard student — the author, translator, and editor of numerous 
works printed by Day ; which will be noticed as we proceed. To 
this he gave himself up in a manner which with most men would 
have absorbed all their time and attention. After he left the 
duke of Norfolk's house he resided nearer to his printer, as ap- 
pears from many letters yet extant, addressed to " Master John 
Fox, at his house in Grubbe Street," or as " dwelling with 
master Daye, the printer, at Aldersgate." The extent cf his 
studies is shown by the number of his works, their effects are well 
described by his son, and should serve as a warning to those 
who are tempted to overstrain their mental powers by studious 
application : " In a student, the mind, when it is overstramed, stop- 
peth not at weariness or pain, but rather proceedeth to the ruin 
of that whereon even the life of men dependeth. For in the 
evils of the mind, he who is once tired, cannot by giving over 
his work for a while, or abating some part of his diligence in 
labour, recover again his former strength, nor overcome the dis- 
commodities he shall thereby endure, though with ever so great 
abundance of other contentments. The truth of this was by 
M. Foxe's example confirmed, who, when he had for many 
years, left no time free from thought of his study, either not at 
all, or not seasonably affording himself what nature required, was 
at length brought to that pass, that his natural liveliness and 
vigour being spent, neither friends nor kindred could by sight 
remember him. By this means he first fell into that withered 
leanness of body in which many afterwards saw him ; never again 
returning to that pleasing and cheerful countenance which he 
had before, but when he w^ould by no means be persuaded to 
lessen his accustomed labours, or to lay aside his study to re- 
create himself, the signs thereof did likewise remain."* 

The studies to which Fox thus earnestly applied, did not, how- 
ever, prevent him from fulfilling the public duties of the 
ministry. The regard and esteem felt for him by many persons 
then in power, would have been exerted to procure him prefer- 
ment in the church, but he accepted none, saving a prebend at 
Salisbury, to v/hich he was appointed in 1564, after some endea- 
vours had been made to obtain him one at Norwich with his 
fellow exile, bishop Parkhurst. He objected to some of the 
canons and ceremonies retained by the settlement of ecclesiastical 

* See p. vii. 



xxii John Fox, — Life, 

affairs under queen Elizabeth, as savouring* too much of popery, 
and this disqualified him from accepting any parochial charge.* 
We are told tiiat archbishop Parker summoned Fox to subscribe, 
*' hoping that the general reputation of his piety might give the 
greater countenance to contbrmity/' Fox, as a reply, took from 
his pocket the New Testament in Greek, and holding it up said 
*' To this I will subscribe." He said, that he had nothing in 
the church but a prebend at Salisbury, adding, " and if you take 
it away from me, much good may it do you." But he was per- 
mitted to retain it. His fellow sufferers, however different their 
opinions on those subjects might be, did not desire to deprive 
such a character of his humble preferment.f Neither was he 
silenced ; we find him continuing to preach, and that on public 
occasions. This led to his powerful discourse on Christ crucified, 
preached at Paul's cross in 1570, and afterwards enlarged for 
the press. It will be found in the present volume. Two Latin 
letters addressed to bishop Grindal, among the Foxian papers in 
the British Museum, appear to relate to this discourse. 

In the first letter he inquires, " who could have instigated 
Grindal thus to think of crucifying him at Paul's cross?" Atler 
urging his own incapacity, and many like excuses, he adds, 
"Also in fairness consider how unequally this will press upon 
me, when, as I believe, there never was ass or mule wlio was 
so weighed down, and overdone by carrying burdens, as I have 
long been by literary labours, everyday employed investigating 
and drawing forth the contents of writers, reading copies, and 
reading them again, and putting together materials which may 
be of public benefit to the church. By these labours T am almost 
worn out, not to speak of ill health and want of books. Yet 
amidst all these labours and defects which I have narrated, I am 
summoned in addition, to St. PauTs cross, that celebrated spot, 
where, like an ape among cardinals, I shall be received with 
derision or driven away by the hisses of the auditory !" 

*It ifl said that ho was rector of Cripplr^atc for a short time, but 
resigned ii on account of the Fubscription to the canons, and that he 
held a prebend at Durham for about a year. 

t Archhishoj) Parker jL^ave fox a dispensation to cat llesh in Lent, 
on account of his hcHltli. In the conunenccnient of (jueen Kli'/abclh's 
reign, orders were issued to enforce the observance of fish diet at 
that season, and on every Wednesday throusli the year. This po])ish 
custom was not retained on account of rclii^ion, but from an idea of 
its beneficial eftect.s on the fisheries, which induced secretary Cecil 
to encourau^e the plan very warmly Licences to eat flesh in Lent 
were frequently i^iven. In ]bh\ we fuid them granted to the univcr- 
Bities and to VV^inchester school. In the licence for the latter Cecil 
expressly states that " the observance of fish days was n politic consti- 
tution." It is, however, possible that the fzovemment may have 
been the rather disposed to nmk(> this repjulation, from a wish to re- 
lain the Komanists within the pale of the national church. Several 
bacrifiees wi-ie made with this virw, and it was successlul jor a time, 
till the y)opc issued bulls forbidding the Komanists to unite in any 
maimer with protestant worship. 



I 



His sermon at Paul's cross, xxiii 

The second letter is as follows : 

" Yesterday, when too late, I heard that your servant had 
been with Day, the printer. Had I seen him, perhaps I might 
have sent a different answer from the present. Bat although I 
saw him not, I now see there are friends who by no means will 
suffer me to refuse, what by all means I had determined to deny. 
I find that they wuil not rest till they have thrust me forward, 
most unwillingly, at Paul's cross. By every means, by intreaties, 
threats, upbraidmgs, they urge, press, and solicit me. What is 
more painful, they pretend that you are displeased with my last 
letter. In addition, they solemnly adjure me in the name of the 
Lord Jesus Christ — this indeed, more than all besides, induces 
me not to refuse. Pray for me again and again. I entreat you, 
beloved prelate, who have laid this burden upon me, help me to 
sustain it. And I cannot but express a pleasing surprise that 
in your letters, where by virtue of your authority this burden is laid 
upon me, your piety has kindly suggested a subject — that I preach 
Christ Jesus, and him crucified. May the Lord Jesus, crucified 
for us, keep your mind in perfect humility amidst the honours 
of your calling, and with that humility of mind may he also pre- 
serve you in your present dignity, for the lasting welfare of his 
church." 

The views of Fox relative to the differences just noticed, may 
be stated from his " Letter to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners 
concerning the present controversies." He says, " the more 
earnestly 1 desire the peace and tranquillity of the church, 
the more I am tortured by these internal differences of opinions 
and controversies, arisen I know not whence. Yet had they 
sprung from unavoidable causes they would have troubled me 
less. But while from light matters occasions are drawn for 
grievous contentions, and we agitate unnecessary questions, not 
only is the fruit of brotherly communion lost, but the forces of 
our enemies are strengthened against us, to whom this our 
quarrel exhibits a joyful spectacle. 

" How much preferable would it be, that, uniting our strength, 
we should do the work of Christ, and diffuse his faith, as 
widely as possible, in the minds of the faithful, contending with 
the sworn enemies of our salvation rather than wdth the friends 
of the faith. I know that much remains to be done among us 
if we seek for a perfect church. But herein we should imitate 
prudent physicians, \vhose first care is, that the body live, then 
that it should flourish as well as possible. But we, by a misplaced 
anxiety, while we strive so earnestly to bring the church to a 
most perfect rule of reformation, do indeed, by our contentions, 
cause that it is scarcely to be perceived, or at best very deformed. 
For v^hat church can be discerned when we have peace neither 
with friends nor enemies 1 What peace with God we can have, 
things plainly enough declare. iVtheism prevails, lust is unpu- 
nished, avarice overcomes, benefices are bought and sold, priests 
are cold — would that they were cold indeed ! The pulpits are 



XXIV John Fox, — Life. 

silenced. Christ^s sheep are fleeced, not fed, his harvest is de- 
spised. That it is so may be learned from the labourers them- 
selves, who are either few in number, or for the most part are 
those who sedulously care for the things which are their own, while 
scarcely any one thinks seriously respecting Christ." Fox then 
urges the importance of attending to the more important points 
of religion, and when these are settled, to build thereon, if 
it is desirable, those things which pertain to outward reforma- 
tion, but if this might not be, still not to excite any schism. 
It had been well for the church, had all parties been as thoroughly 
imbued with the spirit of peace as Jewell and Fox.* 

The situation of Fox with regard to these differences, appears 
to have been peculiarly unpleasant. While he felt it necessary, 
even with personal sacrifices, to testify against the requisitions 
then made as to ecclesiastical affairs, he also objected to many 
proceedings of those who openly opposed the ceremonies and 
canons then adopted. His views were not those of either party 
to their full extent. Fox, though most zealous where he con- 
sidered essentials to be involved, would not be induced by any 
personal regard to become a partisan. 

Tlie kindness and moderation of Fox's disposition further 
appears from his letter to the queen in behalf of two Hollanders, 
who were condemned in 1575, to bo burned for doctrines held to 
be contrary to the christian faith. This was a painful instance 
that the persecuting spirit of popery was not yet eradicated from 
the minds of those who had shaken off the papal yoke, and that 
the right principles of religious toleration were not correctly un- 
derstood. Fox does not appear to have had clear views on this 
subject, but like Luther, he could not approve the putting men 
to death for matters of opinion. He was very unwilling that the 
fires of Smithfield should be rekindled ; he pleaded earnestly 
with the queen, that the cruel practices introduced by the popes 
miglit be laid aside, and that if punishment must be inflicted, it 
should not affect life. 

But his supplications were of no avail ; though the queen con- 
tinually termed him '* her father Fox," yet she refused his re- 
quest. The painful subject need not be here pursued, except- 
ing to lay this cruelty to its right cause — to popery. Strange to 
say, tiiis proceeding arose mainly from mistaken anxiety to vin- 
dicate the protostant churches in the eyes of papists, from the 
imputation of fostering principles alleged to be heretical ! So 
liable are wo to be deceived into the practice of these things 
which we have seen to be wrong. Political reasons, and the 
danirers by which the government was then surrounded, also 
doubtless had their share in this matter, which however can 
neither be excused nor palliated. But the advocates of popery 
never can ix)int to this painful event as a blemish in the history 
of the protestant churches, while history exposes their own 
conduct. 

♦ See Lifeof Jewell, p. 19. 



His kindness to others, xxv 

In reference to the public life of Fox, it should be mentioned 
that his intimacy with the highest and most respected characters 
of the day appears from his correspondence. Among these may 
be enumerated Cecil lord Burleigh, Sir Francis Walsingham, 
secretary of state, the Duke of Bedford, sir Francis Drake, many 
of the nobility and gentry, archbishops Grindal and Parker, 
Aylmer, bishop of London, Dr. Nowell, dean of St. Paul's, Pil- 
kington. Lever, and all the leading ecclesiastics of that day. 
Nor was he less esteemed by sir Thomas Gresham, and the citi- 
zens of London. We find him also in correspondence with 
Bullinger, Martyr, and other foreign Reformers. By the influ- 
ence of these friends, as already remarked, he might easily have 
attained to considerable preferment. 

We have to notice Fox in another point of view. His son 
states that he was " one, for his friendliness useful, by a natural 
inclination to be useful to others. — By good advice, comfortable 
persuasions, or a charitable hand, he relieved the wants, or satis- 
fied the desires of innum.erable persons, whereupon no man's 
house was in those times thronged with more clients than his. 
There repaired to him both citizens and strangers, noblemen and 
common persons of all degrees, and almost all for the same 
cause — to seek some salve for a wounded conscience." 

Herein the labours of Fox were abundant and exceedingly 
blessed. Some interesting proofs are yet extant among his 
papers in the British Museum, where we find a letter to him 
" from one under temptations to blaspheme, requesting counsel," 
with other remains, either of letters addressed to him, or rough 
drafts of his replies to those who, weary and heavy laden, sought 
advice from him, and whom he pointed to that rest which is in 
Christ Jesus. 

Nor were his efforts wanting in behalf of others — there is the 
draft of a letter to a noble person, exhorting him to forgive his 
wife ; with others which show how ready he was on all occasions 
to promote peace and good will. It is indeed interesting to see 
the grave historian, the undaunted champion of the protestant 
faith, one w^ho was engaged in severe studies to an extent where- 
by most would have been overwhelmed, ever prompt to discharge 
all the private offices of kindness which came before him, yet 
with the strictest secresy, so as to avoid all unnecessary expo- 
sure of private affairs. A few specimens may be given ; the 
first of the following letters is so characteristic of this feature 
in Fox, and so valuable for the counsel it gives upon a most 
important subject, that its insertion will not be considered un- 
suitable to the present work. 

To a Gentlewoman^ recommending a friend of his. 

" As your discreet circumspection is not unprovided of suffi- 
cient counsel what you have best to do in your own aflfairs, to 
Fox. 3 



XX vi John Fox. — Life, 

yourself best known^ to me nothing appertaining ; so neither do I 
enterprise so boldly to write to you, as having any need to be 
advertised by others. Yet, notwithstanding, forsomuch as we 
are so willed by the apostle to exhort one another, I trust you 
will not be offended, if I shall write unto you by way of persua- 
sion, in the behalf of a certain godly gentleman, and dear friend 
of mine. The same gentleman, I mean, whom you did see not 
long ago with me at the Moultons, whose sincere integrity, virtu- 
ous life, mild and soft conditions, stayed and settled discretion, 
liis amiable lovingness, loved of all men that know him, with 
no less singular affection working in his heart, especially to- 
wards you, if they were so well known to you as they are to 
me, and others which have experience of him, I should not need 
to bestow this labour herein, either in exhorting of you, or com- 
mending of him ; you would soon understand yourself what ye 
had to do best for yourself 

" But because the party as yet as unacquainted, is not so well 
known unto you, to the intent, therefore, by report of others ye 
should not want some intelligence hereof, I thought thus much to 
write in his behalf, who neither write th for himself, neither is 
privy, I assure you, of my writing for him ; testifying to you 
simply what I do think, and not only what I think myself, but 
hear also testified by some others, which know you both better 
than I do, that if the favour of your mind could be no less in- 
clined to him, than the Lord hath wrought in his heart toward 
you, verily it is supposed a meeter match could not be formed 
for you, nor wished unto you, all things on both parts considered, 
both that I know of you, and know by him. Thus mucli have 
I signified to you what I thought, and know of him to be true. 
You, for your part, do what you think good ; better in my mind 
ye cannot do, than to counsel in this matter with the Lord, who, 
as he hath ordained marriage between man and wife, so giveth 
husbands as he pleaseth. Neither am I ignorant, but there may 
be that come to you with greater offers ; which indeed might be 
something for you to hearken to, if your case stood in any such 
need of worldly goods ; but now you having enough, and, blessed 
be God, abundance, wliat can you desire more now, than a quiet 
life with that which God hath sent you ] And let the offers be 
ever so great, ye shall find at Icngtli, true godliness, joined with 
stayed temperance, more fitter for your condition, as itstandelh, 
than greater superfluity of worldly substance. And furthermore, 
when all your counters shall be cast, ye shall prove it true, and 
so count with yourself, that an hundred pounds by year, with 
thrifty and prudent guiding, will go further at the year's end, 
than five or six himdreds with wasteful spending. I say no 
more, but as I said, I repeat again, you are wise enough, ye know 
herein what ye have to do. The Lord almighty, Disjwser of all 
things, direct your ways and counsels to that which best shall 
be to your quietness and commodity, for Christ Jesus our Lord. 
Amen. 

♦' John Fox.'' 



Letter during a time of pestilence, xxvii 

The following is a letter in behalf of a poor man wronged, 

" Blessed are the peace makers. Grace in Christ. Master 
Boyne, Peter Woodgate, and Thomas Petter ; if it shall please 
you concerning the case of this poor man, as I understand it, the 
matter is plain, his vexation great, his injury intolerable, and 
such as none of you would ever suffer to be done to yourselves. 
If the world be so, that evil persons, by fraud and injury, may 
oppress and circumvent the simple, and no redress in such wrong- 
ful sufferings, then the Lord give us patience, and be merciful to 
this realm. But if it be the part of godly and christian men to 
help in such wrongs and injuries, and to set peace where dis- 
quietness is, and to do for others as they would to be done to 
themselves ; then I pray you aforenamed, joining also Edward 
Barcock with you, in the zeal of the Lord, to work in this 
matter what ye can, to talk earnestly with Stephen Beching, and 
to require him in the name of the Lord Jesus, to defraud this 
poor man no longer from his right, to the great disquieting of 
his mind, and undoing of his wife and her children. If he do, 
let him understand, blessed be the Lord, there are laws in the 
realm, justice is not all asleep, there is also a court of conscience, 
and a godly overseer of the same, the lord-keeper, who both by 
his wisdom will soon find out the matter, and upon his lawful 
authority will see the wrong to be redressed. And if there were 
no right at all here to be had in earth, yet let the said Stephen 
Beching this understand, that the Lord Jesus is alive in heaven, 
whose hand he cannot escape, nor yet is able to abide if it fall. 
But best is that your wisdoms gently and quietly compose the 
matter at home ; wherein I beseech you, as a peace maker, to 
do in the matter what ye can. The zeal of the Lord Jesus 
dwell in you. Amen." 

The following letter written by Fox to the magistrates of the 
city of London during a time of pestilence, shows the christian 
courage with which he continued to assist the needy, when others 
had forsaken their duties ; also the influence which he possessed, 
and the laudable manner wherein he exercised it ; while it il- 
lustrates his desire to alleviate the sufferings of the poor. 

" Grace and joy in the Holy Ghost, with increase of all felicity, 
through Christ our only Saviour. To the dispersed company of 
Londoners, as well aldermen, merchants, and other rich and 
wealthy members of the same city, with all other well-disposed 
persons wheresoever, hearty greeting in the Lord. 

" If we, the poor servants of Christ, and ministers of his word, 
within the city of London, now here remaining and sustaining 
the affliction of this dangerous and infectious time,* shall seem 

* In 15fi3, London suffered much from pestilence. Stow says it 
was so infected the whole year, that there died 20,136 of the plague 
only in the city and out-parishes He adds, " The plague of pestilence 



xxviii John Fox, — Life, 

in this our writing to yon, something more plain and bold than we 
should, humbly we crave of your wisdom wij^ely to construe the 
cause thereof, imputing it not to any inconsiderate suggestion, or 
pretended device conceived of our parts ; but rather to the serious 
and earnest necessity of this present calamitous time ; thus much 
signifying to you betbre, that if the cause were ours only, private- 
ly to us belonging, who write to you, we would never so far em- 
bolden ourselves. For as we, for our parts, have learned not to 
shrink away from our charge committed to us of the Lord; for 
we have learned also to stand content, whatsoever it is we have 
of him — but now, hearing as we hear, and seeing as we see, the 
piteous cry of the poor and desolate flock of Christ, some in 
lanes, some in houses, some in ditches, some harbourless, some 
clotheless, some meatless, some friendless, all succourless ; being 
their pastors, and the mouth of the flock, we cannot but both 
tender their pitiful lamentation, and also certify the same to 
you ; desiring you in the Lord, to extend your tender and chris- 
tian compassion upon them, in helping them in this infectious 
air, with some good odour of sweet savour from you. So that 
though your bodily comfort be absent from them, yet your chari- 
table sustentation may be present with them. As members to- 
gether of one mystical body, so we beseech you, utterly forsake 
not your fellow members. And though God hath set you in a 
more safe state of life, yet neglect not them who bear the cross, 
that God might, or yet may lay upon yourselves. 

*' It is the point of an honest mind, and a christian heart, that 
though he be in ease that he need not for himself fear, yet to 
lament and sorrow with them that lie in misery. Wherefore, 
being thereunto necessarily constrained by the pitiful cry and 
exclamation of the poor people of Christ, here left in London, 
we are forced to write to you, speaking for them that cannot help 
themselves, that you, of your clemency and christian duty, 
(whereby you are borne not only yourselves, but also to your 
country and neighbours,) will bestow some comfort upon your 
fellow members and poor brethren, miserably here oppressed and 
consumed, as well with penury as with pestilence; of which 
two, the one is the hand of God only to stop, the other partly 
under (nxi lieth in your hands to relieve. Extend theretbre, 
we beseech you, your helping hand, and in case you will not or 
dare not visit them with your presence, yet visit them with your 
purses, that the Lord, who peradventure doth this to try you, 
what you will do, may say to you, I was sick, and you visited me, 
I was hungry, and you, (fcc. For else, how this flying and de- 
parting froui your needy neighbours, which neither with your 

wns 90 hot in the city of London that there was no term kept at Mich- 
arlinas. To be Hliort. the poor citizens of London were this year 
plaiiiK'd with a threefold plague; pestilence, scarcity of money, and dearth 
of victuals; the misery whereof were loo long here to write, no doubt 
the poor remember it ; the rich by flight into the country made shift for 
themselves, 



His faith and earnest prayers. xxix 

visitation nor provision you will help, will be allowed before God, 
we cannot see ; especially such of you as by charge of office are 
obliged to your companies. For why is not the alderman, being 
magistrate of his ward, as well bound in conscience to them as 
the minister to his parish ] Or what mean their robes of scarlet, 
but to declare themselves ready with their blood to defend the 
safeguard of their people ? And how are they ready to the shed- 
ding of their blood to defend, who with every slight occasion do 
shrink away, leaving them in danger whom they should succour 
with their provision 1 And what is then to be said, whereas 
neither with their blood, nor yet with their goods, will minister 
any supportation?*' — (Some part appears to be wanting.) 

Nor was Fox unmindful, that when in exile he had received 
much kindness from the followers of Christ in foreign parts. 
Accordingly, after his return, he was ever ready to assist those 
who took refuge in England from persecutions at home. By his 
request the duke of Norfolk wrote to Peter Martyr, urging him 
again to shelter himself in England. Other instances might be 
mentioned, but the following letter written by him to some per- 
son in authority, " in behalf of two learned and godly stran- 
gers," must suffice. 

*' Health and grace in Christ. By the occasion of these two 
learned and godly strangers resorting to your country, I am willed, 
and also willing myself', to write unto you, that you will extend 
your favourable protection not only to them, but also to the rest 
of the same country of Flanders, now miserably afflicted ; who, 
in so doing, in my mind^ shall do a gracious good deed, and a 
sacrifice very acceptable unto the Lord Knowing your godly 
disposition, I shall not need to spend many persuasions to exhort 
you, only it shall suffice to recite the example of Job, of whom 
it is thus written, chap. xxix. The poor man crying unto me I 
delivered, and the fatherless which had no helper. I helped the 
man which was ready to perish, and he blessed me, the heart of 
the widow I comforted. I was an eye to the blind, and a foot 
to the lame ; I was a father to the poor, and the cause which I 
understood not, diligently I inquired out," &c. 

Fox appears to have entered into cases of deep distress with 
the same ardent faith and spirit of prayer as Elijah and Elisha 
of old, when pleading for the bereaved parents who had minis- 
tered unto them. He was not, like those prophets, made the 
means of working miraculous cures, but he was enabled to show 
that the prayer of a righteous man availeth much, and the 
gracious purposes of the Lord seem to have been revealed unto 
him in an unusual manner. 

We may here refer to the account of his life by his son, who 
describing the manner in which he sat loose to the world, says, 
" that he ever showed a deliberate and resolved contempt of all 
things which are in greatest esteem among men, and especially 
of pleasures; which gave him great ability to perform with 

3* 



XXX John Fox. — Life, 

commendation whatsoever he took in hand. For that things which 
were in themselves innocent, grow hurtful when they are over- 
valued, and pursued with avaricious desire. He never declined 
the friendship of illustrious personages ; not to gain honour to 
himself, but because his commendation would thereby be more 
acceptable when used on behalf of otiiers. The money which 
rich men sometimes offered him, he accepted, returning it back 
to the poor." After other remarks, the biographer proceeds, 
" The cause, wherefore he thought all other thmgs so contempti- 
ble, especially as it arose not from disdain nor from sluggishness 
of mind, was only the love of God ; wherewith his mind was so 
filled, and so much delighted, that he left no room, nor any af- 
fection free for other pleasures, of his own accord separating 
himself from the fashions of the world, and devoting himself 
only to this care. Like one who had found an invaluable trea- 
sure, he bent his eyes and mind upon this only, neither hoping 
nor expecting any thing besides, but resolved to make this the 
scope of all his wishes and desires. They who observed him, 
saw his mind steadfastly fixed upon God, and that he spoke and 
did many things beyond the opinion of ordinary good men, both 
in comforting the afflicted, and in terrifying those who were 
stubborn." 

His son then relates two instances, one in reference to lady 
Ann Heneage, who being sick of a violent fever, when the 
disease had so far increased that the physicians pronounced it 
deadly, master Fox was called to be present at her ending, whose 
counsel and fidelity she had often made use of in relation to her 
soul's health. Afler Fox had performed what he came for, he 
added, " Well have you done, and according to your duly to 
prepare yourself for all events, but know^ tliis from me, that of 
this sickness ye shall not die." Sir Moyle Finch, her son-in- 
law, called Fox aside, and said, he could not but wonder that he 
should thus presume to determine the end of the disease, contrary 
to the opinion of the physicians, and by so doing he would bring 
the sick woman, hitherto undismayed, to an impatience of dying. 
That he should indeed rejoice if his mother-in-law were likely to 
live, but if her death were near, it befitted not Fox to dissemble 
it, who especially ought to provide for the good of her soul, and 
that he feared his untimely words might destroy men's opinion 
of his truth and modesty. Fox replied, that he desired not to 
hinder others from thinking of him as they pleased, but that, 
concerning the lady, his full belief was, it seemed good to God 
that she should recover of the disease, and that he said no more 
tiian was commanded of him. The lady recovered. 

The other was the case of mistress Hon i wood, an honourable 
matron, who had long followed the truth, and who, in the days 
of queen Mary, used to visit the prisons, and comfort, and re- 
lieve the distressed confessors.* Afterwards she was under most 

* She was present at ihc burning: of John Bradford, and related that 
the crowd was bo great, that her shoes were trodden from her feet ; she 



The remarkable case of Mrs. Honiwood, xxxi 

distressing fears and doubts respecting the salvation of her soul : 
her sorrow was such that she sunk in despair. Her health be- 
came affected; she appeared to be in a deep consumption; even 
on the brink of the grave. In this state she had been for twenty 
years, and neither physicians nor divines were able to benefit her, 
either as to her body or her soul. At length she sent for Fox. 
They who went with him, said that they never entered a more 
sorrowful or afflicted house. Several friends, relatives, and ser- 
vants sat by the sick woman, some on seats, some on the cham- 
ber floor, not weeping as in a common case of sorrow, but abso- 
lutely silent, as though their tears were all spent, scarcely notic- 
ing any that entered. The sick woman lay upon her bed, appar- 
ently near her end, faintly breathing forth a few words, which 
were in effect a desire to end her days. Fox did not attempt the 
ordinary methods of consolation, but prayed earnestly, pleading 
the faithfulness of God's promises, and Christ's sufferings. This 
course he pursued for some days, though with but little effect. 
At length he told her, that she should not only recover from that 
disease, but also live to a great age, and what was far better, that 
she had an interest in Christ, and should go to heaven. She, 
moved at his words, and earnestly beholding him, exclaimed 
that she should surely be damned, adding, '* As well might you 
say, that if I should throw this glass against the wall, I might 
expect that it should not be broken in pieces." And imme- 
diately dashed down a Venice glass* she had in her hand. It 
struck a chest, from whence it fell to the ground, without re- 
ceiving the smallest injury ! The event proved according to the 
words of Fox. Mrs. Honiwood, who was then sixty years of 
age, recovered and lived till she was ninety, in peace and com- 
fort, being able to reckon up three hundred and sixty-seven de- 
scendants. 

Samuel Fox refers to a person alive when he wrote this in 
1641, who had been present at the above conversation, and says 
he could relate other similar accounts, but declined doing so, as 
those who could have witnessed their truth were dead. 

In reference to these and some similar circumstances, he ob- 
serves that he does not presume to attempt any explanation, 
" whether it was that the mind, by how much the purer, and 
more sublime it is, seeth so much the farther ; or whether there 
is some hidden cause, why God may be pleased sometimes to 
declare his purposes by men, not speaking out of their own 
knowledge but as they are moved." 

A few anecdotes of Fox may be given, illustrative of his 

was obliged to go barefoot from Smithfield to St. Martin's, before she 
could buy another pair. 

* A slight sort of drinking glass made at Venice. At Mark's Hall, 
rear Coggeshall, an ancient seat of the Honiwood family, the glass 
thrown down by Mrs. Honiwood is still preserved, and a place pointed 
out as the spot where it fell 



xxxii John Fox. — Life. 

character. One day he met a woman he knew, who showing 
him a book she carried, said, " See you not that I am going to a 
sermon !" He answered, " If you will be ruled by me, go home, 
for you will do little good to-day at church." Whereupon she 
asked, " when he would counsel her to go 1" " Then," replied 
he, *' when you tell no one beforehand." 

A gentleman, dining with Fox, spoke very freely against the 
earl of Leicester, whose conduct was much canvassed. Fox 
commanded a certain cup to be filled with wine, and brought to 
him. " This cup," said he, " was given me by the earl of Lei- 
cester." The gentleman immediately ceased. This is charac- 
teristic of Fox's quiet, but effectual method of repressing what 
was wrong, without exciting needless debate. 

A young man, inclined to be too forward in company, said, 
that while studying the old authors, he saw no reason why men 
should so greatly admire them. Fox observed, "No marvel in- 
deed, for if you could conceive the reason, you would admire 
them yourself." 

One having inquired whether he recollected a certain poor 
man whom he used to relieve. " Yes," answered Fox, " I re- 
member him well. And I willingly forget lords and ladies, to 
remember such as he." 

At another time, when leaving the palace of Aylmer, bishop 
of London, a company of poor people begged of him importu- 
nately. Fox, having no money, returned to the bishop, and 
asked the loan of five pounds, which was readily granted ; then 
going forth, he distributed it among that retinue, by which, as 
Fuller observes, he ever might be traced. Some months after, 
Aylmer asked Fox for the money he had borrowed. " I have 
laid it out for you," was the answer, " and paid it where you 
owed it, to the poor people who lay at your gate." Far from 
beinc^ offended, Aylmer thanked Fox for thus being his steward. 

His course of life during his later years is thus described by his 
son. " Spending the day at home in conference with those who 
resorted to him, frequently preaching abroad, and going to visit 
those who were not able themselves to come to him, he both ful- 
filled that, which by the courtesy of his own disposition was en- 
joined him, and neglected not the pcrformanceof that duty which 
the office of his ministry imposed on him. The little time which 
was lefl free to his own disposal, he bestowed not in sleeping or 
taking pleasure, but in prayer or study ; in both which he always 
retired to some private place, or made use of the silence of night 
for sccresy, unless sometimes the vehement groans, mingled with 
his prayers, being heard by some near the place, gave notice how 
earnest he was in his devotions. For at no time of the night 
could any man come to find his labours ended, but often hath the 
next morning's light seen the last of his night's care dispatched." 

Yet Fox was no ascetic ; his voluntary abstinence from the en- 
snaring pleasures of life has been mentioned, but as he knew 
that this victory was not obtained in his own strength, so he 



His cheerfulness, — Samuel Fox. xxxiii 

desired that the fruits thereof might appear to the glory of his 
master. We learn, " that he frequented the tables of his friends, 
not for his pleasure sake, being of a spare diet, but both in 
courtesy to keep them company, and lest any should think that 
he was not defended against the pleasures of the table by his own 
moderation. So did he behave himself in those things that are 
followed by delights, that none of those who were commonly in 
his company, can remember any speech or action of his that 
showed desire of them." Although his presence might tend 
to prevent improper excesses, we have no reason to suppose him 
averse to proper and christian cheerfulness. Many passages in 
his writings show that he was naturally of a cheerful turn of 
mind, and pleased with lively sayings, although far from un- 
christian levity. He desired by experience in christian warfare 
to increase his own strength, and to give to others an example 
of fortitude. 

The correspondence of Fox in the latter part of his life, shows 
that his circumstances remained very limited. In a letter written 
to his son Samuel, he says that the letters which his son had 
addressed to a bishop, had been sent, but without effect, adding, 
*'The twenty shillings you received by Gellebrand were from 
your mother, not from the bishop. This she is willing that you 
should know, lest you should rely upon human help, w^hich is of 
small avail. It is best to seek for aid from Him who feedeth the 
young sparrows, and imparts food unto all flesh. Call upon him 
in truth, and fix all your hopes upon him." 

The occasion of this letter seems to have been as follows. His 
son, Samuel, who was fellow of Magdalen college, had travelled 
beyond seas without permission from his father or the college. 
On his return, he was charged with an inclination to popery, 
which, though without foundation, induced the members of his 
college, then inclining to strict discipline, to expel him. 

Fox addressed a bishop in behalf of his son, whom he did not 
defend as faultless, but urged that he was dismissed without pre- 
vious admonition, or any cause being assigned, and the harshness 
of this proceeding, rather arose from internal dissensions in the 
college, and opposition to their president, than to freedom from 
faults gfreater than those they censured in his son. The letter is 
penned in a very able manner ; he speaks in moving terms of his 
own age and poverty. We find that Samuel Fox was afler wards 
restored to his office by the queen's mandate.* 

We may here again notice, that Fox always from his deep 
poverty was abundant in liberality to the poor. His son says, 
" So far was he from thirsting after honour, riches, applause, or 
any outward good ; that he would at no time suffer the care of 

* It is related of Samuel Fox, that on his return from the continent, 
he presented himself to his father in a foreign and somewhat fantastical 
garb. " Who are you ?" said Fox. " Sir, I am your son Samuel." The 
reply was, " O ray son, what enemy of thine hath taught thee so much 
vanity !" 



xxxiv John Fox. — His death, 

hie private estate to enter into his mind, much less that it should, 
by taking- thought for his household affairs, be overcome or drawn 
aside. — Being- otlen asked why he had no more regard to the 
straitness of his own estate, it being the first precept of charity 
to begin at home ; his answer was, " That God, by his covenant 
had the charge of his affairs, who well knew both what was fit 
for him, and when to bestow it ; and since God had never yet 
failed him, when could he begin to doubt of him, without manifest 
ingratitude r' His son testifies that he showed pity to all sorts 
of men in distress, though he does not confirm what was report- 
ed, that Fox ol\en gave away his clothes and household stuff. 
He considered that it was not likely his father should proceed so 
far ; as by the liberality of others, who made him their almoner, 
lie wanted not means to relieve those in necessity. The sums 
thus entrusted to him appear to have been considerable, and were 
applied most faithfully to the purposes intended. It was well 
that he had this assistance, for his love to his Saviour was such, 
that he never could refuse giving to any who asked him for re- 
lief in the name of Jesus, or for Christ's sake. 

One of the latest circumstances recorded of Fox is, that he 
declared his conviction, as being taught of God, that the Spanish 
Armada would be unsuccessful. The mind of the martyroiogist 
must have been deeply anxious respecting the event of an expedi- 
tion, which, ifit had succeeded, would have renewed the scenes ex- 
hibited during the reign of queen Mary, in a more dreadful degree. 

The particulars of his departure, which took place April 18th, 
1587, are thus recorded by his son Samuel, "Ere he had quite 
passed through his seventieth year, he died, not through any 
known disease, but through much age.. Yet did he foresee the 
time of his departure; nor would suffer his sons, notwithstand- 
ing he entirely loved them, to be present at his death, but forbad 
the one to be sent for, and despatched the other on a journey 
three days before he died. Only sending for them when he well 
knew that whatever haste they made, they would be too late. 
Perhaps he thought them unable to bear so heavy a spectacle, or 
would not have his own mind troubled at that time with any 
thing that might move him to desire life. Which to me and my 
brother was most grievous, that thereby we could neither come to 
close his eyes nor to receive his last blessing and exhortations, 
nor to satisfy our minds witli that last sight of him. We could 
with more patience have endured to see the approaches of his 
death drawing on, than have lost so good an example how to die. 

"Upon the report of his death the whole city lamented, ho- 
nouring the small funeral that was made for him, with the con- 
course of as great a multitude of people, and in the same fashion 
of mourning, as if each had buried his own father or brother.'' 

His two sons above mentioned, Samuel and Simeon, lived to ad- 
vanced age, were men of learning, and much esteemed in their day. 

His son Samuel observes, " All his virtues were fenced about 
as with a bulwark, by a singular modesty and integrity of life, 



His Acts and Monuments, xxxv 

which suffered not any thing to enter into his manners, or to 
break forth into his actions, without first diligently examining 
whether it might beseem him or not. Having this always be- 
fore him, if at any time, by human frailty, aught within began ♦ 
to be shaken, he quickly forsook it, before the matter proceeded." 
He says, '' I write of a life bearing continually true and solid 
fruits ; — a life passed over without noise, of modesty at home and 
abroad, of continual charity, contempt of the world, and thirst 
after heavenly things ; of unwearied labours, and all actions so 
performed as might be exemplary or beneficial to others.'' 

The chief debt of gratitude to Fox, both from his contempo- 
raries and from posterity, was for his writings — among these, 
*' The Acts and Monuments of the Church" is the most import- 
ant, both as to the extent of labour bestowed on the work, and 
the unspeakable usefulness which has resulted from it. This 
work, as already noticed. Fox commenced when at Basle ; the 
first sketch was printed in octavo, in 1554. An enlarged com- 
pilation in Latin, in a folio volume, was printed also at Basle in 
1559 and in 1563. This contained but a small part of his full 
design, which was to show the whole history of the church of 
Christ, especially the rise and progress of the English reforma- 
tion, as well as to record therein the persecutions and sufferings 
of the English church in his own day. Many supplied him with 
materials, and on his return home he devoted himself principally 
to this great work, continuing to prepare it in English, by the 
advice of bishop Grindal, who took much interest in promoting 
it. The facts which Fox chiefly wished to note were recent, 
the examinations and letters of the martyrs were furnished to 
him from authentic sources ; and the bishop's records, which con- 
tained many documents of the greatest importance, were open 
to him. All these he examined personally, transcribing them 
himself. In 1563, eleven years from the commencement of his 
labours, he had proceeded with his work sufficiently to publish 
it under the title of " Acts and Monuments of these latter and 
perilous days, touching matters of the church, wherein are com- 
prehended and described the great persecutions and horrible 
troubles that have been wrought and practised by the Romish 
prelates, especially in this realm of England and Scotland, from 
the year of our Lord one thousand unto the time now present. 
Gathered and collected according to the true copies and writings 
certificatory, as well of the parties themselves that suffered, as 
also out of the bishops' registers, which were the doers thereof" 
Strype, in simple yet strong terms, sets forth its value. He 
says, " Herein Fox hath done exquisite service to the protestant 
cause, in showing from abundance of ancient books, records, re- 
gisters, and choice manuscripts, the encroachments of popes-and 
papal ins, and the stout oppositions made by learned and good 
men, in all ages, and in ail countries, against them ; and espe- 
cially under king Henry and queen Mary, here in England ; 
preserving to us the memories of those holy men and women, 



xxxvi John Fox. — His writings. 

those bishops and divines, together with their histories, acts, 
sufferings, and their constant deaths, willingly undergone for the 
sake of Christ and his gospel, and for refusing to comply with 
popish doctrines and superstitions." Strype bears testimony to 
the " infinite pains" Fox took in compiling this work, and in 
searching of registers, and in the enlargement of the several 
editions in his life-time. So full and perfect an exposure of the 
persecutions of popery never was made, as of those in the reign of 
queen Mary. The church of Rome has usually been able to con- 
ceal its deeds of darkness in some degree, or for some time. But 
in this instance, the broad light of day broke in at once upon the 
recesses of its dungeons, and the archives of its tribunals. Strype 
says, *' Great was the expectation of the book in England before it 
came abroad. The papists then scurrilously styled it, * Fox's 
Golden Legend.' When it first appeared, there was extraordinary 
fretting and fuming at it through all quarters of England, and 
even to Louvain. The papists charged it with lies, and said, 
there was much falsehood in it; but indeed they said this, be- 
cause they were afraid it should betray their cruelty and their 
lies." This ever has been the practice of that corrupt church, 
and the unblushing effrontery with which its advocates impute 
the charge of falsehood, has too often been successful with those 
who are ignorant of the depths of iniquity it has manifested. 

Parsons, a Romanist, who wrote shortly after, plainly charged 
Fox with spoiling the bishops' registers and ancient records, 
declaring that he would have undertaken to find abundant matter 
to confute Fox out of the records of the bishoprics, but which, he 
added, were now destroyed by him, *' as we do presume." Here 
was a papist measuring others by the conduct usual in his own 
church, which ever has been remarkable for altering, forging, and 
destroying of documents !* But truth has not recourse to any such 
measures. Strype adds, " Fox was an indefatigable searcher 
into old registers, and left them as he found them, after he had 
made his collections and transcriptions out of them, many 
whereof I have seen and do possess. And it was his interest 
that they should remain to be seen by posterity, therefore we 
frequently find references to them in the margins of his book. 
Many have diligently compared his books with registers and 
council books, and have always found him faithful." "As he 
hath been found most diligent, so most strictly true and faithful 
in his transcriptions. And this I myself in part have found." 

But a considerable portion of Fox's work necessarily rested 
upon the relation of living witnesses. These he has generally 
mentioned by name, and a great part are men whose character 
is so well established, as to place them above any imputations. 
Many of course were persons of inferior rank, but surely we 

♦ It was justly allowed against Polydorc Vcrfril, who compiled a Romish 
history of Kn^land in the rei^Mi of llonry \'II. that he had destroyed 
many ancient re(!ords and documents, that he might conceal the interpo- 
lations and omissions which he had made. 



Accuracy of his Acts and Monuments, xxxvii 

are not to consider that as any ground for a charge of want of 
veracity. Some errors and mistakes there doubtless were, but 
far less than could be expected in a work of such magnitude. 
These Fox took every pains to correct, travelling to considerable 
distances to ascertain the real facts where doubts were alleged, 
and without hesitation inserting in his subsequent editions any 
corrections which appeared needful. As most of the persons 
alluded to vv^ere living when his work appeared, unusual advan- 
tages were afforded in this respect, and several letters still ex- 
tant in the British Museum, prove his own anxiety, and that of 
his friends, to correct any errors. 

To pursue this subject at length cannot be necessary. Strype 
has given particulars, which show how unfounded several of the 
charges of the papists were, and when the reader examines 
those upon which Romish writers as well ancient as modern, 
have laid the most stress, he will be surprised to find they are 
only matters of small importance, and still more at the unblush- 
ing effrontery with which ofl refuted charges are still repeated.* 
We may here dismiss the subject with a quotation from Dr. 
Wordsworth, who himself examined many of the ancient records 
used by Fox. He says in the preface to his ecclesiastical bio- 
graphy, " These writings (of the papists) have not proved, and 
it never will be proved, that John Fox is not one of the most 
faithful and authentic of all historians. We know too much of 
the strength of Fox's book, and of the weakness of those of his 
adversaries, to be further moved by such censures than to charge 
them with falsehood. All the many researches and discoveries 
of later times, in regard to historical documents, have only con- 
tributed to place the general fidelity and truth of Fox's melan- 
choly narrative, on a rock which cannot be shaken." 

The testimony of Neal, from his History of the Puritans, 
may also be given. He says, " No book ever gave such a mortal 
wound to popery as this. It was dedicated to the queen, and 
was in such high reputation, that it was ordered to be set up in 
churches ; where it raised in the people an invincible horror and 
detestation of that religion which had shed so much innocent 
blood." Brook observes in his Lives of the Puritans, that the 
weight of all the objections offered in contempt of the Foxian 
martyrs, is as nothing to overthrow so solid and immoveable a 
fabric. " The Acts and Monuments of the martyrs have long 
been, they still remain, and will always continue substantial 
pillars of the protestant church ; of more force than many 

* Two may be noticed, which are found in the writings of two of 
the most distinguished modern Romanists of England. One repeats the 
allegation, that the woman whose new bom infant was burned at Guern- 
sey was unmarried, although Fox in his later editions mentioned the 
name of the minister by whom she had been married, who was ihea 
living in St. Martin's-le-Grand, London, and refers the reader to him. 
The other, noticing the case of Hunne, who was strangled in prison hy 
the otficers of the popish prelate of London, calls it " the legend of flunne," 
though Fox's narrative is from legal documents; proceedings in the 
courts of law, and parliamentary records. 

Fox. 4 



xxxviii John Fox. — His writings, 

volumes of bare arguments, to withstand the tide of popery, and 
like a Pharos, should be lighted up in every age, as a warning to 
all posterity.'* No history ever has been so strictly and severely 
tried as the Acts and Monuments of John Fox, and no work of 
human composition ever stood tlie test of severe scrutiny with 
equal credit and advantage. Every pains was taken to make it 
public, a copy was ordered to be set up in every parish church 
throughout England, with Jewell's Defence of the Apology, and 
the large English Bible, for the use of all people, excepting in 
times of divine service, till Laud ordered the writings of these 
reformers to be taken away, as they did not countenance some of 
his views ! But even now the well worn remains of these volumes 
are sometimes to be found in a village church, an undeniable 
proof that the history of those times was subjected in the fullest 
manner, to the examination of the very people among whom the 
circumstances related had occurred only a few years before.* 

This work was reprinted in 1570, with several corrections and 
numerous additions, also commencing from " the primitive time." 
Other additions and corrections were made in subsequent edi- 
tions printed in 1576 and 1583, during the life-time of Fox, and 
subsequent to his decease in 1596, 1610, 1632, 1641, and 1684. 
No complete edition has been printed since that period, though 
often called for, but innumerable compilations from its pages 
have appeared.! 

The other writings of Fox, not already mentioned, may be 
more briefly enumerated. The principal are those which relate 
to the controversies with Osorio, a Romish prelate of considerable 
ability, who wrote against the English Reformation, and in de- 
fence of the Romish doctrines of justification. A work written 
by him, soon after the accession of queen Elizabeth, had been ably 
answered by Dr. Haddon, master of requests to the queen, and at 
her desire. Osorio replied at great length, with many personal 
invectives upon the English protestants, urging the usual objec- 
tions against the doctrines of the Reformation. Haddon com- 
menced a further answer, but died before it was finished. As 
this controversy was considered a matter of importance to the 
state. Fox was selected to continue Haddon's work, which he did 
in a very satisfactory manner. Strype gives a very full account 
of this controversy ; he characterises the work of Haddon and 
Fox, as "a very learned vindication of protestants, and a confu- 
tation of the doctrines and practices of the church of Rome." 

* By the canons of the convocation held a. d. 1571, it was enjoined 
that every prelate should place the Rible, fox's Acts and Monuments, 
and other religious works in their halls or princi|)al eating rooms for the 
use of their quests and domestics. Deans were enjoined to see these 
books placed in the cathedrals in convenient situations, so that they 
iniiiht be heard and read, which implies that they were customarily read 
aloud. All di^niitaries were to have a copy in their families; one was to 
be placed in every college and hall in the universities. 

+ The value ot the early editions is increased by the circumstance that 
mftny of the wood engravings contained portraits of the principal char- 
actf:ri of thai day. Bonner saw and adinilted his own likeness I 



His controversy with Osario, xxxix 

Fox also engaged in a still more important controversy with 
Osorio, who wrote a Latin treatise concerning justification ; to 
this Fox replied in a work printed in 1583, entitled " Concerning 
Free Justification through Christ." He wrote this and most of 
his other works in Latin, as that was a universal language among 
all persons of any pretensions to education. We accordingly 
find him apologizing to Dr. Humphrey, the president of Magda- 
len College, Oxford, when he sent him a copy of the first edition 
of his Acts and Monuments, that it " was not written in Latin, 
which, he said, grieved him, as the fruits of it then might spread 
further, and it might be more pleasant to read." An English 
translation of Fox on Justification was afterwards published, the 
greater part of which will be found in the present volume ; an 
abridgment appeared desirable both on account of the limits of 
this work, and as it was unnecessary to follow Fox through all 
the logical forms then used in such arguments, or to traverse the 
mazes of the controversy. The reader will find this one of the 
most important writings of the British reformers ; the great doc- 
trine of justification by faith is treated without the introduction 
of those less important topics, by whichRomanists usually endea- 
vour to confuse and obscure their controversies with protestants. 
It was in truth a strenuous contest. Osorio put forth all the 
sophistries and perversions of his party. Fox grappled manfully 
with them and overcame. We may consider Fox as standing 
unrivalled among the British reformers on this subject, as well as 
in matters of history. This piece is the more important, as its 
arguments are particularly opposed to the doctrine of the Jesuits, 
which then had been recently advanced, and were beginning to 
exercise a mischievous influence. It also deserves serious 
perusal at the present day, for it answers many of the erroneous 
opinions on that all important subject, which have been intro- 
duced into protestant churches during the two last centuries. 

Another work of Fox included in the present volume, is a 
sermon preached by him on the occasion of the baptism of a Jew. 
The subject is, the gospel olive tree, spoken of by St. Paul, Rom. 
xi. It notices the principal prophecies relative to the Messiah, a 
statement of the doctrine of justification by faith in Christ, and 
strong arguments against Jewish errors. It is the only piece re- 
lative to the Jews among the British reformers. 

Fox also wrote a work upon the Eucharist— Concerning the 
doctrine of election — An exhortation to be read in the time of 
pestilence — A new year's gift concerning the deliverance of cer- 
tain Christians from the Turkish galleys — Concerning the re- 
ceiving into the church those who have fallen, but have returned 
by repentance — and Meditations upon the Apocalypse. 

He edited several works. Among them were the writings of 
Tindal, Frith, and Barnes. He translated some pieces of the 
German reformers, and set forth a collection of christian prayers 
from ancient writers. We also find many prefaces and epistles 
from his pen. Day, as we have seen, was rightly called the 



xl John Fox. — His writings, 

printer of the Reformation, Fox was his editor, ready at all 
times to direct the talents, and apply the time he possessed, 
to such objects as seemed consonant to the work of his Lord and 
Master. Among other works he was employed by archbishop 
Parker to edit the Saxon gospels. His researches into Saxon an- 
tiquities enabled him to combat many of the Romish usurpations. 

Strype obtained many of the papers of Fox, and has made con- 
siderable use of them in his Memorials and Annals.* A consi- 
derable quantity passed into the Harleian collection, and are now 
in the British Museum. An inspection will do much to satisfy 
of the industry and fidelity of the martyrologist. Amongst 
them is an interesting selection from the correspondence of Fox, 
apparently copied under his own direction from such letters as he 
thought most important to preserve. Strype has published 
several, some others are inserted in this biographical sketch, but 
the whole collection should be printed. f 

To conclude — Fox was a most valuable artificer in the great 
work of the English Reformation. He may be considered as the 
last of the venerable body of British reformers, and also as con- 
necting them with their immediate successors, the puritans and 
other valuable divines of the latter part of the sixteenth and the 
commencement of the seventeenth centuries. He was not only 
a principal stone in the edifice, but also the cement whereby the 
other stones have become firmly united together ; it is im- 
possible to have examined the various documents requisite for the 
present work, without being impressed with enlarged views of 
the excellences of his character, and deeply feeling 
The inestimable value of John Fox. 



* The writings of Strype have flirnished so much assistance to the 
present edition of The British Reformers, that a brief notice of 
this most valuable contributor to English ecclesiastical biography 
should be given. John Strype was born at Stepney, in 1013. He was 
educated at St. Paul's school, studied at Cambridge, and was minister 
of Low Ley ton. in Essex, which living he held for sixty-six years. 
Having access to some valuable papers of lord Burleigh's he began hia 
collections, and proceeded to a very considerable extent, being assisted 
by Wake, Burnet, and others of similar taste for antiquities, and of 
Buflicient influence to render their aid valuable. His works relative to 
the Reformation have been lately reprinted at the Clarendon press ; 
and extend to nearly thirty octavo volumes. His fidelity and industry 
are undoubted, and impart much value to his writings. Strype died 
in 1737, a^ed ninety-four. Part of the materials he used arc now in 
the British Museum. 

t The neqlect of the writings of John Fox is as discreditable to the 
English nation, as the disregard shown to the writings of VVickHff. 
A complete collection of the works of each of these reformers should Ikj 
Bet fortii as a national undertaking ; and it is painful to reflect, that the 
Bums lavished upon only a few of the groups of heathen deities which 
deform rather than adorn, our national cemeteries, would have amply 
Butficed to defray the expense, while the cost would have been expended 
among our native artisana 



SOME ACCOUNT 
OF 

JOHN BALE, 

Bishop of Ossory. 



John Bale was born in 1495, at Cove, a small village near 
Dunwich, in Suffolk. At twelve years of age he was entered in 
the monastery of Carmelites at Norwich, and from thence went 
to Jesus College, in Cambridge. While a papist he was very 
zealous for that way of religion. He says, " I wandered in utter 
ignorance of mind both at Norwich and Cambridge, having no 
tutor or patron, till the word of God showing forth, the churches 
began to return to the true fountain of true divinity. In which 
bright rising of the New Jerusalem, boing not called by any monk 
or priest, but seriously stirred up by the illustrious the lord Went- 
worth, as by that centurion who declared Christ to be the Son of 
God, I presently saw and acknowledged my own deformity ; and 
immediately, through the divine goodness, I was removed from 
a barren mountain, to the flowery and fertile valley of the gospel, 
where I found all things built, not on the sand, but on a solid rock." 

Bale openly showed his renunciation of the errors of popery 
by marrying. He soon became an object of hatred to the Romish 
clergy, but was protected by lord Cromwell. The confession of 
William Broman, accused of heresy in 1536, states, that " one 
Bale, a white (or Carmelite) friar, sometime prior of Doncaster, 
taught him about three years ago, that Christ would dwell in no 
church that was made of lime and stones by men's hands, but 
only in heaven above, and in men's hearts in earth." Strype 
also relates that Bale was a zealous decrier of the papal supre- 
macy and worship between 1530 and 1540 ; adding, *' Sometimes 
we find him in the north, where Lee, the archbishop, imprisoned 
him, and sometimes in the south, where Stokesly, bishop of 
London, met with him. At Cromwell's death he thought it not 
safe for him to abide any longer in Enjrland, especially as perse- 
cution grew so hot upon the six articles; so he, with his wife 
and family, went beyond sea, and tarried in Germany eight years." 

During Bale's abode on the continent he wrote several of his 
works, particularly his elucidation of tlie martyrdom of Anne 
Askew. He says, ** I have expelled myself for ever from mine 
own native country, kindred, friends, and acquaintance, which 
are the great delights of this life, and am well contented, for .Tesus 
Christ's sake, and for the comfort of my brethren there, to suffer 
poverty, penury, abjection, reproof, and all that comes besides.* 

396 



Balers vocation to Ossory, 3 

After Edward VI. had succeeded to the throne, Bale was re- 
called to England, and presented to the living of Bishop's Stoke, 
in Hampshire. In 1552 he was nominated to the bishopric of 
Ossory, in Ireland. The circumstances attending this appoint- 
ment are related by himself as follows : 

•' Upon the 15th day of August, a. d. 1552, being the first 
day of my deliverance, as God would, from a dangerous ague, 
v.'hich had holden me long afore ; in rejoicing that his majesty 
was come in progress to Southampton, which was five miles from 
my parsonage of Bishop's Stoke, within the same county, I took 
my horse about ten of the clock, for very weakness scarce able to 
sit on him, and so came thither. Betvv'ixt two and three of the 
clock the same day, I drew towards the place where his majesty 
was, and stood in the open street right against the gallery. Anon 
my friend, John Philpot, a gentleman, and one of the king's 
privy-chamber, called unto him two more of his companions, who, 
in moving their heads towards me, showed me most friendly 
countenances. By one of these the king having information that 
I was there in the street, he marvelled thereof, for it had been 
told him a little afore that I was both dead and buried. With 
that his grace came to the window, and earnestly beheld me, a 
poor weak creature, as though he had had upon me, so simple a 
subject, an earnest regard, or rather a very fatherly care. 

" In the very same instant, as I have been since that time 
credibly informed, his grace called unto him the lords of his most 
honourable council, so many as were then present, willing them 
to appoint me to the bishopric of Ossory, in Ireland. Where- 
unto they all agreeably consenting, commanded the letters of my 
first calling thereunto to be written and sent me. The next day, 
the 16th of August, they very favourably subscribed the same. 

" Thus was I called, in a manner from death, to this office, 
without my expectation, or yet knowledge thereof And thus 
have ye my vocation to the bishopric of Ossory, in Ireland. I 
pass over my earnest refusal thereof, a month after that, on the 
king's majesty's return to Winchester ; where, as I alleged (as I 
then thought) my lawful impediments, of poverty, age, and sick- 
ness, within the bishop's house there; but they were not ac- 
cepted. Then resorted I to the court at London, within six weeks 
after, according to the tenour of the aforesaid letter ; and within 
six days had all things performed pertaining to my election and 
full confirmation, freely without any manner of charges or ex- 
penses, whereof I much marvelled. 

*' On the 19th day of December I took my journey from 
Bishop's Stoke with my books and stuff towards Bristol, where I 
tarried twenty-six days for passage, and divers times preached in 
that worshipful city, at the instant desire of the citizens. Upon 
the 21st day of January v^e entered into the ship ; I, my wife, 
and one servant : and, being but two nights and two days upon 
the sea, so merciful was the Lord unto us, we arrived most pros- 
perously at Waterford, in the coldest time of the year. 

37* ' 397 



4 John Bale. — Life, 

" In beholding the face and order of that city, I saw many abo- 
minable idolatries maintained by the priests for their worldly 
interests. The communion or supper of the Lord was there 
altogether used like a popish mass with the old apish toys of 
antichrist, in bowings and beckonings, kneelings and knockings, 
the Lord's death, after St. Paul's doctrine, neither preached nor 
yet spoken of There wailed they over the dead with prodigious 
bowlings and patterings, as though their souls had not been 
quieted in Christ and redeemed by his passion, but that they must 
come after and help at a pinch with requiem eternam, to deliver 
them out of hell by their sorrowful sorceries. When J had be- 
holden these heathenish behaviours, I said to a senator of that 
city, that I well perceived that Christ had there no bishop, nei- 
ther yet the king's majesty of England any faithful officer of the 
mayor, in suffering such horrible blasphemies. The next day 
after, I rode towards Dublin, and rested the night following in 
a town called Knocktover, in the house of master Adam Walshe, 
my general commissary for the whole diocese of Ossory. 

" At supper the parish priest, called Sir Philip, was very ser- 
viceable, and, in familiar talk, described unto me the house of the 
white friars, which sometime was in that town ; concluding in 
the end, that the last prior thereof, called William, was his 
natural father. I asked him, if that were in marriage 1 He 
made me answer. No. For that was, he said, against his profes- 
sion. Then counselled I him, that he never should boast of it 
more. Why, saith he, it is an honour in this land to have a 
spiritual man, as a bishop, an abbot, a monk, a friar, or a priest, 
to father. With that I greatly marvelled, not so much of his 
unshamefaced talk, as I did that adultery, forbidden of God, and 
of all honest men detested, should there have both praise and pre- 
ferment, thinking in process, for my part, to reform it. I came 
at the last to Dublin, where I found my companion Hugh 
Goodacre, archbishop of Armagh elect, and my old friend, David 
Cooper, parson of Calan. Much people greatly rejoiced at our 
coming thither, thinkinir, by our preachings, the pope's supersti- 
tions would diminish, and true christian religion increase." 

Some difficulties were thrown in the way of the bishop's con- 
secration, by the papists, who wished that it should have been 
according to the Romish ritual ; but Bale firmly opposing this, 
the ceremonial as lately directed by king Edward, was used. 

Bishop Bale endeavoured earnestly to fulfil the duties of his 
new charge, but met with much opposition from the papists. 
It is described by himself in his work entitled, " The Vocation 
of John Bale to the bishopric of Ossory, in Ireland ; his perse- 
cutions in the same, and his final deliverance," which presents 
a painful delineation of the state of Ireland at that period. 

Bale proceeds : " Within two days after my consecration was 
I sick again, so that no man thought I should live ; which malady 
held me till aller Easter. Yet, in the meantime, I found a way 
to bo brought to Kilkenny, where I preached every Sunday aud 

398 



His preaching in Ireland, 5 

holyday in Lent, till theSunday after Easter was fully past, never 
feeling any manner of grief of my sickness for the time I was in 
the pulpit ; whereat many men, and myself also, greatly mar- 
velled. Neither had I, for all that time space, any mind to call 
for any temporal profits, which was afterwards to my no small 
hinderance. From that day of my consecration I traded with 
myself, by all posibility, to set forth that doctrine which God 
charged his church with ever since the beginning; and thought 
therewith in my mind also that I had rather that Etna should 
swallow me up, than to maintain those ways in religion which 
might corrupt the same. For my daily desire is, in that everlast- 
ing school to behold the eternal Son of God, both here and after 
this life ; and not only to see the fathers, prophets, and apostles 
therein, but also, for love of that doctrine, to enjoy their blessed 
fellowship hereafter, And so much the rather I acted thus with 
myself, that I saw then the king's majesty, the archbishop of 
Canterbury, and the honourable lords of the council, so fervently 
bent that way, as to seek the people's health in the same. I 
thought it thereupon no less than my bound duty to show myself 
faithful, studious, and diligent in that so chargeful a function. 

" My first proceedings in that doing w^ere these: I earnestly 
exhorted the people to repentance for sin, and required them to 
^ive credit to the gospel of salvation. To acknowledge and be- 
lieve that there is but one God ; and him alone, without any other, 
sincerely to worship. To confess one Christ for an only Saviour 
and Redeemer, and to trust in none other men's prayers, merits, 
nor yet deservings, but in his alone, for salvation. I treated at 
large both of the heavenly and political state of the Christian 
church ; and helpers I found none among my prebendaries and 
clergy, but adversaries a great number. 

"I preached the gospel of the knowledge and right invocation 
of God ; I maintained the political order by doctrine, and moved 
the commons always to obey their magistrates. But when T once 
sought to destroy the idolatries, and dissolve the hypocrites' 
yokes, then followed angers, slanders, conspiracies, and, in the 
end, the slaughter of men. Much ado I had with the priests ; 
for that I had said among other, that the white gods of their 
making, such as they offered to the people to be worshiped,* 
were no gods, but idols ; and that their prayers for the dead 
procured no redemption to the souls departed, redemption of 
souls being only in Christ, of Christ, and by Christ. 1 added, 
that their office, by Christ's strait commandment, was chiefly to 
preach and instruct the people in the doctrine and ways of God, 
and not to occupy so much of the time in chanting, piping, and 
singinof. Much were the priests offended also for that I, in my 
preachings, willed them to have wives of their own, and to leave 
their unshamefaced doings. But hear what answer they made 
me always, yea, the most vicious men among them : ' What ! 
should we marry,' said they, * for half a year, and so lose oui 

• * The consecrated wafers used in the communion. 

399 



6 John Bale, — Life, 

livings V Think ye not that these men were inspired ] either 
yet had knowledge of some secret mischief working in England 7 
I, for my part, have not a little since that time marvelled when 
it hath fallen to my remembrance. Well, the truth is, I could 
never yet, by any godly or honest persuasion, bring any of them 
to marriage, neither yet cause them which were known for un^ 
shamefaced life, to leave their abominable conduct, though I 
most earnestly laboured it. 

" The Lord, therefore, of his mercy, send discipline with doc- 
trine into his church. For doctrine without discipline, and re- 
straint of vices, maketh dissolute hearers. And, on the other 
side, discipline without doctrine maketh either hypocrites or else 
desperate doers, I have not written this in dispraise of all the 
priests of Kilkenny or thereabout; for my hope is that some of 
them by this time are fallen to repentance, though not many. 

" In the week after Easter, when I had preached twelve ser- 
mons among them, and established the people, as I thought, \n 
the doctrine of repentance and necessary belief of the gospel ; ir% 
the true worshipping of one God, our eternal Father, and no 
more ; and in that hope of one Redeemer, Jesus Christ, and no 
more ; I departed from Kilkenny to another place of mine, five 
miles off, called Holme's Court, where I remained till the As- 
cension day. In the mean time came sorrowful news unto me 
that M. Hugh Goodacre, the archbishop of Armagh, that godly 
preacher and virtuous learned man, was poisoned at Dublin, by 
procurement of certain priests of his diocese, for preaching God's 
verity, and rebuking their common vices. And letters by and 
by were directed unto me, by my special friends from thence, to 
be aware of the like in my diocese of Ossory ; which made me 
peradventure more circumspect than I should have been. Upon 
the Ascension day I preached again at Kilkenny, likewise on 
Trinity Sunday, and on St. Peter's day at Midsummer. 

*' On the 25th of July, the priests were as pleasantly disposed 
as might be, and went by heaps from tavern to tavern, to seek 
the best Rob Davie and Aqua Vita?, which are their special 
drinks there. They caused all their cups to be filled in with 
Gaudeamus in dolio, the mystery thereofonly known to them, and 
at that time to none other else. — Which was, that king Edward 
was dead, and that they were in hope to have up their masking 
masses again. As we have in St. John's Revelation, That they 
which dwell on the earth (as doour earthly-minded massmongers) 
should rejoice and be glad when God's true witnesses were once 
taken away, and should send gifls one to another for gladness, 
because they rebuked them of their wicked doings. Rev. xi. For 
ye must consider that the priests are commonly the first that 
receive such news. The next day following, a very wicked 
justice, called Thomas Hctb, with the lord Mountgarret, re- 
sorted to the cathedral church, requiring to have a communion 
in the honour of St. Anne. The priests made him answer, 
that I had forbidden that celebration, saving only upon the 

400 



Death of Edward VL 7 

Sundays ; as I had, indeed, for the abominable idolatries that I 
had seen therein. ' I discharge you,' said he, * of obedience to 
your bishop in this point, and command you to do as ye have 
dona heretofore ;' — which was, to make of Christ's holy commu- 
nion an idolatrous mass, and to suffer it to serve for the dead, 
clean contrary to the Christian use of the same. 

" Thus was the wicked justice not only a violater of Christ's 
institution, but also a contemner of his prince's earnest com- 
mandment, and a provoker of the people, by his ungracious ex- 
ample, to do the like. This could he do, with other mischiefs 
more, by his long being there by a whole month's space ; but by 
murders, thefts, idolatries, and abominable licentiousness, where- 
withal that nation abounded, for that time he sought no redress, 
neither appointed any correction. The priests thus rejoicing that 
the king was dead, and that they had been that day confirmed 
in their superstitious obstinacy, resorted to the aforesaid false 
justice the same night at supper, to gratify him with Rob Davie 
and Aqua Vitse, for that he had been so friendly unto them, and 
that he might still continue in the same. The next day after 
was the lady Jane Guildford proclaimed their queen, with solem- 
nity of processions, bonfires, and banquets ; the said justice, as 
I was informed, sore blaming me for my absence that day ; for, 
indeed, I much doubted that matter. 

" So soon as it was there rumoured abroad that the king was 
departed from this life, the rufiians of that wild nation not only 
rebelled against the English captains, as their custom in such 
changes hath been always, chiefly no English deputy being 
within the land, but also they conspired the very deaths of so 
many English men and women, as were left therein alive ; mind- 
ing, as they then stoutly boasted it, to have set up a king of their 
own. And, to cause their wild people to bear the more hate to 
our nation, very subtlely, but yet falsely, they caused it to be 
noised over all, that the young earl of Ormond, and Barnaby, 
the chief of Upper Ossory's son, were both slain in the court 
at London. Upon this wily practice of mischief, they raged 
without order in all places, and assaulted the English forts every 
where. And at one of them, by a subtle train, they got out nine 
of our men, and slew them. 

" On the 13th of August a gentlewoman, the wife of Matthew 
King, having a castle not far off, her husband then being at 
London, fled with her family and goods in carts towards the 
foresaid Kilkenny; and in the highway was spoiled of all, to 
her very petticoat, by the kerns and the gallowglasses of the 
forenamed chief of Upper Ossory, Michael Patrick, and of the 
lord Mountgarret, who ought rather to have defended her. In 
this outrage had she, after long conflict with those enemies, 
four of her company slain, besides other mischiefs more. 

" On the 20th day of August was the lady Mary with us at 
Kilkenny proclaimed queen of England, France, and Ireland, 
\v:ith the greatest solemnity that there could be devised, of pro- 

401 



8 John Bale, — Life, 

cessions, musters, and disguisings, all the noble captains and 
gentlemen thereabout being present. What ado I had that day 
with the prebendaries and priests about wearing the cope, cro- 
sier, and mitre in procession, it were too much to write ! 

" I told them earnestly, when they would have compelled me 
thereunto, that I was not Moses's minister, but Christ's; I desired 
them not to compel me to his denial, which is, St. Paul saith, in 
the repeating of Moses's sacraments and ceremonial shadows, 
Gal. V. With that I took Christ's testament in my hand, and 
went to the Market Cross, the people in great number following. 
There took 1 Roman xiii. declaring to them briefly what the 
authority was of the worldly powers and magistrates, what reve- 
rence and obedience were due to the same. In the mean time 
thcT prelates had got two disguised priests, one to bear the mitre 
afore me, and another the crosier, making three procession pa- 
geants of one. The young men, in the forenoon, played a tragedy 
of God's promises in the old law, at the Market Cross, with or- 
gan-playings, and songs very aptly. In the afternoon again they 
played a comedy of Saint John Baptist's preachings, of Christ's 
baptizing, and of his temptation in the wilderness, to the small 
contentation of the priests and other papists there.* 

" On the Thursday next following, which was St. Bartholo- 
mew's day, I preached again among them, because the preben- 
ilaries and other priests there had made their boasts that I should 
be compelled to recant all that I had preached afore; and, as I 
was entered into the pulpit, I took this saying of St. Paul for my 
theme : ' I am not ashamed of the gospel.' And why 1 ' For it 
is the power of God unto salvation, to all them that believe it,' 
Rom. i. Then declared I unto them all that I had taught there 
since my first coming thither, the justice Iloth being present; 
as, That our God was but one God, and ought alone to be wor- 
shipped ; and that our Christ was but one Christ, and ought 
alone to be trusted to for our redemption from sin. I earnestly 
charged the people to rest upon these two principles firmly, as 
they would answer it at the dreadfiil day, and not to suffer them- 
selves to be led, by a contrarious doctrine of deceitful teachers, 
into any other belief from thencetbrth. Also, concerning the 
sacrament of ('hrist's body and blood, wherein they had been 
most prodigiously abused, through the unsatiablecovetousnessof 
the priests, I recjuired them very reverently to take it, as a sacra- 
ment only of C/hrist's death, whereby we are redeemed, and made 
innocent mernbors of his mystical body, and not to worship it as 
their god, as thoy had done, to the utter derogation of his hea- 
venly honour. And, as I came in the usual prayer to remem- 
brance of the dea<l, I willed them to give hearty thanks to God 
for their redemption in Christ, largely declaring, that the souls 

* These " mysttMics." or scrnic rcprcsrntatione from scripture, were 
VL-ry frcqm-nt in th(> Romish church. Bale, and some others, composed 
Bncrfd dramas more nccordinjr to the doctrines of truth. Those here 
mentioned were written by Bale. 

402 



Disputations with the Papists, 9 

of the righteous were in the hand of his mercy, without cruel 
torment, and that the priests, with all their masses and funeral 
exequies, could add nothing to their redemption, if they had 
been otherwise bestowed. 

" After the prayer, I took the gospel of the day, Blessed are the 
eyes that see what ye behold, Luke x. wherein I was occasioned 
to speak of certain degrees of men, as of kings, prophets, law- 
yers, justiciaries, and so forth: As, that the kings were desirous 
to see Christ, the prophets to embrace him, the swelling lawyers 
to rise up against him and to tempt him, and the ambitious jus- 
ticiaries to toy with him and to mock him. The wounded man 
to have need of him, the priest to show no compassion, the 
Levite to minister no mercy, and, last of all, the contemned 
Samaritan to exercise all the offices of pity, love, benevolence, 
and liberal mercy, upon the same wounded creature ; as, to resort 
to him, favourably to see him, with leisure to behold him, to have 
compassion on him, to bind up his wounds, to pour in oil and 
wine, to set him on his own beast, to bring him to a place of 
comfort ; finally, to succour him, and to pay his whole charges. 

" The same day, I dined with the mayor of the town, whom 
they name their sovereign, called Robert Shea, a man sober, 
wise, and godly, which is a rare thing in that land. In the end 
of our dinner certain priests resorted, and began very hotly to 
dispute with me concerning their purgatory and suffrages for the 
dead. And as I had alleged the scriptures proving Christ's 
sufficiency for the soul's discharge before God, without their dirty 
deservings, they brought forth, as seemed to them, contrary alle- 
gations, that there should appear no truth m those scriptures. 
As St. Paul prophesied of them, Rom. i. That such as they were, 
should seek to turn the verity of God into a lie. And when I 
had once deprehended them in that thievery, and agreed both 
our alleged scriptures, to the maintenance of my first principle, 
to their manifest reproach, I demanded of them, what a chris- 
tian man's office was, when such a scripture was uttered as neither 
man nor angel was able to deny any truth thereof] But they made 
me no answer. Then said I unto them, * Ye have set me forth a 
new lesson, and taught me this day to know a good man from a 
hypocrite, and to discern a true christian from a wicked papist. 
The good man,' said I, * believeth a truth in the scriptures, the 
hypocrite denieth it, the christian embraceth it, the papist doubt- 
eth and disputeth against it ; as the devil in the wilderness with 
Christ, when he seught by one scripture to confound another.' 

" The next day I departed from thence, and went home with 
my company to Holme's Court again. Where as I had know- 
ledge, the next day following, that the priests of my diocese, 
specially one sir Richard Routh, treasurer of the church of Kil- 
kenny, and one sir James Joyce, a familiar chaplain of mine, by 
the help of one Barnaby Bolgar, my next neighbour and my 
tenant, at the said Holme's Court, had hired certain kerns of the 
lord Mountgarret, and of the baron of Upper Ossory, whom they 

403 



10 John Bale, — Life. 

knew to be most desperate thieves and murderers, to slay me. 
And I am in full belief, that this was not without all their 
knowledge also ; for so much as they were so desirous of my lands 
in diverse quarters, and could neither obtain them by their own 
importunate suits, nor yet by the friendship of others. 

*' On the Thursday atler, which was the last day of August, I 
being absent, the clergy of Kilkenny, by procurement of justice 
Hoth, blasphemously resumed again the whole papism, or heap 
of superstitions of the bishop of Rome ; to the utier contempt 
of Christ and his holy word, of the king and council of England, 
and of all ecclesiastical and politic order, without either statute 
or yet proclamation. They rung all the bells in that cathedral, 
minster, and parish churches ; they flung up their caps to the 
battlement of the great temple, with smilings and laughings 
most dissolutely, the justice himself being therewith offended : 
they brought forth their copes, candlesticks, holy waterstock, 
cross, and censers : they mustered forth in general procession 
most gorgeously, all the town over, with Sancta Marian Orapro 
nobis, and the rest of the Latin Litany : they chattered it, they 
chanted it, with great noise and devotion : they banquetted all 
the day after, for that they were delivered from the grace of 
God into a warm sun.* 

" For they may, now from thenceforth, again deceive the 
people, as they did aforetime, with their Latin mumblings, and 
make merchandise of them, 2 Pet. ii. They may make the wit- 
less sort believe, that they can make every day new gods of their 
little white cakes, and that they can fetch their friends' souls 
from flaming purgatory, if need be, with other great miracles 
else. They may now, without check, live in all evil life, as they 
have done always. I write not this without a cause ; for why, 
there were some among them, which boasted both of this and 
much more too vain to be told. And, when they were demanded, 
How they would be discharged before God ] They made answer, 
that ear confession was able to burnish them again, and to make 
them as white as snow, though they thus offended ever so oft. 
And one of them, for example, was the drunken bishop of Gal- 
way, who, besides these uncomely brags, furiously boasted in 
the house of one Martin, a faithful Italian and servant to the 
earl of Ormond, and in other houses more, that the bishop of 
Rome was the head supreme of the christian church in earth, and 
should so be proclaimed in Ireland, the said Martin, as God's 
true friend, rebuking him for it. The exercise of this bishop is 
none other, but to gad from town to town over the English part, 
confirming young children for two-pence apiece, without exami- 
nation of their christian belief, contrary to the christian ordinan- 
ces of England, and at night todrink Rob Davie and Aqua Vitae. 

*'()n the Friday noxt following, vvhich was the 8th day of Sep- 
tember, five of my household servants, Richard Foster, a deacon, 
Richard lleadley, John Cage, an Irish horse-groom, and a young 
* A proverbial expression. 

404 



His servants murdered, 11 

maid of sixteen years of age, went out to make hay about half a 
mile off, betwixt eight and nine of the clock, after they had 
served God according to the day. And, as they were come to 
the entrance of that meadow, the cruel murderers, to the number 
of more than a score, leaped out of their lurking bushes, with 
swords and with darts, and cowardly slew them all unarmed and 
unvv caponed, without mercy. This did they, in their wicked 
fury, as it was reported, for that they had watched so long before, 
yea, a whole month space they say, and sped not of their purpose 
concerning me. They feloniously also robbed me of all my 
horses, and of all master Cooper's horses, who that time sojourned 
with me for safeguard of his life, to the number of seven, driv- 
ing them afore them. In the afternoon, about three of the clock, 
the good sovereign of Kilkenny, having knowledge thereof, re- 
sorted to me with a hundred horsemen, and three hundred foot- 
men, and so with great strength brought me that night to the 
town, the young'men singing psalms and other godly songs all 
the way, in rejoice of my deliverance. 

** As we were come to the town, the people, in great number, 
stood on both sides of the way, both within the gates and without, 
with candles lighted in their hands, shouting out praises to God 
for delivering me from the hands of these murderers. The priests 
the next day, to colour their mischief, caused it to be noised all 
the country over, that it was by the hand of God that my servants 
were slain, for that they had broken, they said, the great holy 
day of our lady's nativity.* But I would fain know what holy 
days those blood-thirsty hypocrites and malicious murderers kept, 
who had hired their cruel kerns to do that mischiefl Oh ! abo- 
minable traitors, both to God and to all godly order. Ye here 
commend murder under a colour of false religion, to hide your 
own mischiefs to the eyes of the people ; but the eyes of God 
ye cannot deceive. Your horrible slaughter must now be God's 
doing, and yet was it the devil that set you to w^ork ! Ye prate 
here of the observance of the holy day, who never yet kept the 
holy day as it should be kept. For ye never yet preached the 
word of God truly, neither ministered the sacraments rightly, 
neither yet taught the people to honour God purely, and to keep 
his commandments inviolably, which are the only keepings of 
the holy days. 

" On the day next follovv^ing, which was Saturday, in the after- 
noon, the aforesaid treasurer, a man unlearned, and of vile life, 
resorted to me with a number of priests, to tempt me, like as 
Satan did Christ in the wilderness, saving that Satan to Christ 
offered stones, and that tempting treasurer both apples and wine. 
And, as they had then compassed me in round about, the said 
treasurer proponed unto me, that they were all fully minded to 
have solemn exequies for king Edward, lately departed, like as 
the queen's highness had had them in England. I asked them 

*The church of Rome teaches that holy days and saints' days are 
to be observed as strictly, or even more so, than the sabbath. 

Bale. 88 405 



12 John Bale. — Life. 

how that was? They made me answer, with a requiem mass 
and dirge. Then asked I of them ag-ain, Who should sing the 
mass] And they answered me, that it was my bounden duty to 
do it, being their bishop. Then said I unto them, * Massing is 
an office appointed of that antichrist, the bishop of Rome, to 
whom I owe no obedience, neither will I owe him any so long 
as I shall live. But if ye will have me there to do that office, 
which Christ, the Son of God, hath earnestly commanded, which 
is to preach his holy gospel, I will do it with all my heart.' 

" * No,' said they, ' we will have a solemn mass, for so had 
the queen.' Said I, ' Then must ye go seek out some other chap- 
lain ; for, truly, of all generations, I am no mass-monger ; for, 
of all occupations, methinks it is most foolish ; for there standeth 
the priest disguised, like one that would show some conveyance 
or juggling play. He turneth his back to the people, and telleth 
a tale to the wall in a foreign language. If he turn his face to 
them, it is either to receive the offering, either to desire them to 
give him a good word, with Orate pro me fratres^ (pray for me 
brethren,) for he is a poor brother of theirs; either to bid them 
God speed, with Dominus vobiscum^ (the Lord be with you,) for 
they get no part of his banquet; either else to bless them with 
the bottom of the cup, with Benedictio Dei^ (the blessing of God,) 
when all the breakfast is done.* And of these feats,' said I, *can 
1 now little skill.' With that the treasurer, being in his fumes, 
stoutly demanded a determinate answer, as though he came not 
thither without authority. Then suspected I somewhat the w^ick- 
edness of justice Hoth, and such other ; notwithstanding, I 
asked him once again. What profit he thought the king's soul to 
have of those funeral exequies'? Then answered one of the 
priests, that God knew^ well enough what he had to do. *Yet 
you must appoint him !' said I. * If these poor suffrages be a 
way for him to heaven, and that he cannot go thither without 
them, ye are much to blame that ye have deferred them so long. 
Ye had a commandment, the last Saturday, of the justice Uoth, 
to have solemnized them that night, and the next day after. But 
the devil, which that day danced at Thomas Town, (for they had 
a procession with pageants,) and the Aqua Vitffi and Rob Davie 
withal, would not suffer you then to do them. I desire you, con- 
sidering that the last Sunday ye deferred them to see the devil 
dance at Thomas Town, that ye will also this Sunday defer them, 
till such time as I send to the queen's commissioners at Dublin, 
to know how to be discharged of the oath which I made to the 
king and his council for abolishment of that popish mass; for I 
am loth to incur the danger of perjury.' With that, after a few 
words more, they seemed content, and so departed. 

*The different postures and actions observed by the priest in cele- 
brating mass, afe very numerous, and are all especially directed. They are 
delineated in some of the Romish books of devotion to the number of 
thirty- five. See Daily Devotions, or tlie most profitable manner of hearing 
Mass. Dublin, 1824. 

406 



He is driven from Ireland. 13 

" The next day came thither a proclamation, that they which 
would hear masses, should be suffered so to do, and they that 
would not, should not thereunto be compelled. Thus was that 
building clearly overthrown, and that practice of blasphemy 
would not take at that time, as God would. And, as I had con- 
tinued there certain days, I chanced to hear of many secret mut- 
terings, that the priests would not so leave me, but were still 
conspiring my death. It was also noised abroad, by the bishop 
of Gal way, and others, that the antichrist of Rome should be 
taken again for the supreme head of the church of Ireland, 
And, to declare a contemptuous change from religion to super- 
stition again, the priests had suddenly set up all the altars and 
images in the cathedral church. Beholding therefore so many 
inconveniencies to ensue, and so many dangers toward, having 
also, which was worst of all, no English deputy or governor 
within the land to complain to for remedy, I shook the dust off 
my feet against those wicked priests, according to Christ's com- 
mandment, Matt. X. that it might stand against them as a wit- 
ness at the day of judgment. The next day, early in the 
morning, by help of friends, I conveyed myself away to the 
castle of Lechline, and so to the city of Dublin, where I, for a 
certain time, among friends remained." ' 

This account of the proceedings of the papists in Ireland, in 
opposition to the protestant reformation, is an important docu- 
ment in the history of that period. 

Bale then relates his escape from Dublin in a small trading 
vessel, but before they had lost sight of land, he was taken by 
the pilot and commander of a Flemish vessel of war, who carried 
him on board their own ship, and robbed him of all his property. 
The Fleming was driven by adverse weather into St. Ives, in 
Cornwall, where an attempt was made to cause Bale to be sus- 
pected of treason. This failed, but after a further cruise of 
several days, the ship came to Dover, where he was again en- 
dangered by a false accusation. The captain was about to de- 
liver him to the papists, but was prevailed upon, by Bale's offer 
of a sum of money, to proceed to Holland, w^here he obtained 
his liberty on payment of thirty pounds. 

Bale then proceeded to Switzerland, and continued to reside 
at Basle during the reign of queen Mary. After her decease, 
he returned to England. In January, 1560, he was appointed 
to a prebend in Canterbury cathedral. He died in that city in 
November, 1563, aged sixty-eight. 

Bale was well skilled in divinity as well as in general learning, 
and was an able preacher. Previously to his conversion from 
popery, which appears to have taken place in 1529, he for some 
time taught the civil law at Cambridge. He was a volumi- 
nous writer ; some of his pieces were written before he left the 
Romish church, but the greater part subsequently. The latter 
were chiefly controversial and personal ; they b(»e heavily upon 

407 



14 John Bale. — His writings. ^- 

the papists, especially as he exposed the shameless lives of their 
ecclesiastics in the plainest terms. Their vices he attributes to 
the " idolatries" of their religion. With these he was well ac- 
quainted ; speaking of the papists, he says, " Yea, I ask God 
mercy a thousand times, I have been one of them myself." One 
of the most severe of his publications, " The Acts and unchaste 
Examples of religious Votaries, gathered out of their own 
legends and chronicles," he did not complete ; probably he was 
advised to suppress the abominable and shameful details. 

Bale's principal work was his " Summary of the Illustrious 
Writers of Great Britain," in which, with most persevering indus- 
try, he collected from a variety of sources, a particular account 
of the most remarkable actions, sayings, and writings of each 
author, especially showing the errors and enormities of the 
church of Rome. Of course very opposite views of this work 
have been taken by different writers ; it will, however, always be 
considered and referred to as the foundation of English biography. 
Strype admits that it is not free from errors, and justly asks, 
What historical work can be so 1 but he speaks of Bale as " an 
author of high esteem, and of commendable diligence and in- 
tegrity, to whom posterity is much indebted for preserving from 
utter perishing much of the English ecclesiastical history." 

Bale's controversial and other smaller pieces must have had 
very considerable influence at that day. Their coarseness, which 
now disgusts the reader, was then hardly considered an objection. 
He was, as Strype observes, sharp and foul enough sometimes, 
when he had foul subjects to deal with — and such were indeed 
abundant in that day. The near view he had of these practices 
appears to have been the principal occasion of exciting his dis- 
gust to popery. It has been fairly observed that " he wrote with 
all the warmth of one who had escaped the flames." It is not 
surprising that many among those who never have seen the 
fires should think such delineations too vivid. 

Among the most finished of Bale's writings, is " The Image 
of both Churches," being a comment on the Apocalypse, printed 
in the reign of Edward VI. Some extracts from this work are 
given in the following pages, as it appeared desirable to include 
in the present collection specimens of an author who was so 
efficient among the British Reformers; that work also conveys 
to us the matured opinions of Bale, which he held in com- 
mon with all the most eminent British Reformers, upon some 
subjects which have continually agitated the church of Christ. 
Bale must ever be respected for the bold and uncompromising 
manner in which he opposed the errors of the papacy, and the 
half measures of some among his associates; but the nature of 
his writings, though then very useful, gives him fewer claims 
upon our attention than most of the reformers at that period. 



40^^ 



SOME ACCOUNT 

OF 

MILES COVERDALE, 

Bishop of Exeter. 



Miles Coverdale was a native of Yorkshire, where he was 
born in 1487. In early life he was a zealous papist, and became 
an Augustine monk. He entered into orders in 1514, but con- 
tinued in the monastery of the Augustines at Cambridge, of 
which Dr. Barnes, afterwards martyr, was prior. About 1526, 
the doctrines of the reformation began to influence many at 
Cambridge. Serious persons resorted together for conference 
sake, and attended the sermons of such preachers as were in- 
clined to the protestant faith. Their meetings for edification 
were chiefly at a house called the White Horse, which was con- 
sequently nicknamed Germany by their enemies, in allusion to 
the German Reformation. This house v/as convenient for the 
private access of students from several of the colleges. Cover- 
dale and his superior. Dr. Barnes, were amongst the earliest who 
threw ofl' the errors of popery. From the recantation of Thomas 
Topley, a friar at Stoke Clare, in Suffolk, we find Coverdale at 
Bumstead in Essex in 1528, where he declared openly against 
the mass, the worship of images, and private confession. He 
maintained that contrition for sin, between God and a man's own 
conscience, was enough, without confession to a priest. This was 
in conversation. Topley also states, that by Coverdale's preach- 
ing, his mind was drawn from the Romish doctrine of the sacra- 
ment. He also had heard Coverdale preach against images. 
Fox, the curate of Bumstead, seems to have been intimate with 
Coverdale, and to have held similar views. 

Coverdale appears very soon to have devoted himself to the 
important work of translating the scriptures into the English 
language. He was on the Continent in 1530, where he had 
gone to escape the persecution then commenced. While there, 
he assisted Tindal in his translation of the Pentateuch after 
ihe first copy had been lost. He continued to take part in 
the biblical labours of that reformer, and when Tindal had 
fallen a victim to the malice of his enemies, Coverdale pursued 
these studies, till 1535, when the first complete translation of 
the English bible appeared. It seems to have been printed at 

COVERDALE. 41 441 



2 Miles Coverdale, — Life. 

Zurich. By residing on the Continent, he was enabled to carry 
it through the press without interruption. He also had the 
assistance of the Lutheran divines, many of whom were well 
skilled in Hebrew, as well as the German translation. These 
helps he acknowledges in his preface, which is given in the fol- 
lowing pages. Coverdale's version was dedicated to Henry 
VIII. and allowed by royal authority ; the interest Cranmer 
took in these labours has been noticed in his life. 

Fulk relates from Coverdale's own statement, that Henry VIIL 
gave this translation to some of the bishops to peruse, who 
alleged there were faults therein, but admitted that no heresies 
were maintained thereby. " If there be no heresies," said the 
king, " let it go abroad among the people.'* 

In 1538, Coverdale was employed in France in superintending 
another edition of the English scriptures, then printing at Paris, 
on account of the skill of the workmen, and the superiority of 
their materials. The attention of the papists, however, was at- 
tracted to the work, and the '• lieutenant criminel" was ordered 
to seize the edition, consisting of 2500 copies. The greater 
part were burned, some copies, hov/ever, escaped which had been 
sold to a haberdasher. The types and workmen were then re- 
moved to London, and in 1539, Cranmer's, or 'Hhe great bible," 
appeared with the advantage of farther corrections from Cover- 
dale, who was much assisted in these labours by the protection 
of Cromwell. The opposition of the prelates to the English 
translation of the bible has been noticed in the life of Cranmer, 
and elsewhere. 

Coverdale maintained his ground during the chequered pro 
ceedings of the latter years of Henry VIII. and hesitated not to 
defend the memory of his former prior and friend, Dr. Barnes. 
He was almoner to queen Catharine Parr, and assisted in the 
translation of the paraphrase of Erasmus, carried forward under 
her influence. He wrote a preface to the epistle to the Romans. 
He preached at the funeral of this pious queen in 1548, wlien 
he warned the people that the ofl^crings then made, were for 
the benefit of the poor and the honour of the clergyman, " not 
any thinsr to profit the dead." He was also chaplain to king 
Edward VI. 

In August, 1551, Coverdale was nominated to the see of 
Exeter, in the place of Veysey, a decided Romanist ; to this ho 
was presented, on account of his knowledge of the scriptures, 
and his unblemished character. He had previously attended the 
king's commissioners, who were sent to quiet the disturbances in 
the west of England, and preached the public thanksgiving 
sermon on tliat occasion. He was then apix)inted coadjutor to 
the bishop, an office not uncommon in those days. At the inter- 
cession of Cranmer, the payment of first fruits was remitted on 
account of his poverty. Veysey also had nuioli injured the 
revenues of the see. 

Coverdale exerted himself to promote the reformed religion in 

442 



His labours for the reformation ; his imprisonment. 3 

his diocese. His conduct was most exemplary. Like a true 
primitive bishop, he was a constant preacher, and much given to 
hospitality. He was sober and temperate in all things, holy and 
blameless, friendly to good men, liberal to the poor, courteous to 
all, void of pride, clothed with humility, abhorring covetousness 
and every vice. His house was like a little church, in which 
was exercised all virtue and godliness. He suffered no one to 
abide under his roof, who could not give some satisfactory account 
of his faith and hope, and whose life did not correspond with his 
profession. He preached constantly on Sundays, and lectured 
during the week in the churches of Exeter, but notwithstanding 
his charity, humility, and hospitality, the papists exerted them- 
selves to oppose his labours. 

Immediately after queen Mary came to the throne, Coverdale 
was deprived and imprisoned. He was confined with the other 
leading reformers, and signed with them the confession of faith. 
During his imprisonment, he wrote An Exhortation to the 
Cross, which is noticed by Strype. He therein says, " Pray for 
us, for, God willing, we v^ill not leave you ; we will go before 
you. You shall see in us that w^e preached no lies, nor tales of 
tubs, but even the true word of God, for which we, by God's 
grace, and help of your prayers, will willingly and joyfully give 
our blood to be shed for confirmation of the same. 

He exhorts the professors of the gospel to be steadfast in their 
course. " Like God's children let us go on forward apace ; 
the wind is on our back. Hoist up the sails, lift up your hearts 
and hands unto God in prayer ; and keep your anchor of faith 
to cast in time on the rock of God's word, and on his mercy in 
Christ, and I warrant you." He also wrote a confutation of a 
sermon preached at Paul's Cross by Dr. Weston, in which 
that bigoted Romanist had called the people to pray for souls de- 
parted, " who were neither in heaven nor hell, but in a place not 
yet sufficiently purged to come to heaven, in order that they 
might be relieved by the devout prayers of the congregation." 

It was intended that he should suffer martyrdom, but he had 
become related by marriage to the chaplain of the king of Den- 
mark, who interfered in his behalf. His release being procured 
with some difficulty, not till twelve months after the first appli- 
cation, and on condition of his leaving the kingdom,* Coverdale 
went to Denmark, where the king wished him to remain, but 
this he declined, being unable to preach in that language. He 
then proceeded to Geneva, where he occupied himself partly in 
preaching and partly as a teacher. But labours connected with 
the English scriptures again claimed his attention; with the 
assistance of several fellow exiles he set forth the English Bible, 

* Queen Mary endeavoured to evade compliance with this request 
of the king of Denmark, by alleging that Coverdale was in prison for a 
debt due to her by reason of his bishopric ! The king availed him- 
self of this to urge his release as the more reasonable, inasmuch as he 
had cleared his accounts. 

443 



4 Miles Coverdale, — Life. 

usually called the Geneva Bible, with brief explanatory notes. 
His coadjutors in this work are said to have been Gilby, Good- 
man, Wittingham, Cole, and Sampson, to whom some add Knox, 
Bodleigh, and Pullain. This version is in some respects supe- 
rior to our present translation ; it passed through above thirty 
editions during the reign of queen Elizabeth, mostly set forth 
by the royal printers. It was sanctioned by archbishop Parker 
and bishop Grindal. Some of the notes offended James I. 
who in the conference at Hampton Court, in the early part of 
his reign, said, that " he had never yet seen a bible well trans- 
lated in English, though he thought the Geneva the worst, and 
therefore wished that some special pains should be taken for one 
uniform translation." He added, *' that there should be no mar- 
ginal notes, having found in those annexed to the Geneva trans- 
lation, some very partial, untrue, seditious, and savouring too 
much of dangerous and traitorous conceits." It is hardly ne- 
cessary to say that such blame from such a character, may be 
considered as a testimony in favour of the version. This opinion 
of the Geneva Bible, made king James more zealous in promoting 
our present authorized translation. The Geneva Bible, how- 
ever, continued to be very generally used in families during a 
great part of the seventeeth century. The first edition of the 
new testament printed in 1557, was the earliest English trans- 
lation in which the verses were numbered. 

The following extract from the address to theChristian reader, 
prefixed to this version, shows the spirit in which this important 
work was executed, and the attention bestowed upon it. 

"Besides the manifold and continual benefits which almighty 
God bestoweth upon us, both corporeal and spiritual, we are 
especially bound, dear brethren, to give him thanks without 
ceasing, for his great grace and unspeakable mercies, in that it 
hath pleased him to call us into this marvellous light of his 
gospel, and mercifully to regard us after so horrible backsliding 
and falling away from Christ to Antichrist, from li^ht to dark- 
ness, from the living God to dumb and dead idols, and that after 
BO cruel murder of God's saints, as also hath been among us, we 
are not altogether cast ofl^, as were the Israelites, and many others 
for the like, or not so manifest wickedness, but received again 
to grace, with most evident signs and tokens of God's especial 
love and favour. To the intent, therefore, that we may not be 
unmindful of these irreat mercies, but seek by all means, accord- 
ing to our duty, to be thankful for the same, it bchoveth us so 
to walk in his fear and love, that all the days of this life we may 
procure the glory of his holy name. 

** Now, forasmuch as this is chiefly to be attained by the 
knowledge and practising of the word of God, which is the light 
to our paths, the key of the kingdom of heaven, our comfort in 
affliction, our shield and sword against Satan, the school of all 
wisdom, the glass wherein we behold God's face, the testimony 
of his fiivour, and the only food and nourishment of our souls, 
444 



21ie Geneva Bible. His latter days, 5 

we thought that we could bestow our labour and study in nothing 
which could be more acceptable to God, and comfortable to his 
church, than m translating the holy scriptures into our native 
tongue. Which albeit divers heretofore have endeavoured to 
achieve, yet considering the infancy of those times, and imper- 
fect knowledge of the tongues, in respect of this ripe age and 
clear light which God hath now revealed, the translations re- 
quired greatly to be perused and reformed. Not that we vindi- 
cate anything to ourselves above the least of our brethren, for 
God knoweth with what fear and trembling we have been for 
the space of two years and more, day and night, occupied there- 
in, but being earnestly desired, and by divers, whose learning 
and godliness we reverence, exhorted, and also encouraged by 
the ready wills of such, whose hearts God likewise touched, not 
to spare any charges for tiie furtherance of such a benefit and 
favour of God towards his church, though the time was then 
most dangerous, and the persecution sharp and furious, we sub- 
mitted ourselves at length to their godly judgments. And see- 
ing the great opportunity and occasions which God presented 
unto us in his church, by reason of so many godly and learned 
men, and such diversities of translations in divers tongues, we 
undertook this great and wonderful work, with all reverence, as 
in the presence of God, as entreating the word of God where- 
unto we think ourselves insufficient, which now, God, according 
to his divine providence and mercy, hath directed to a most pros- 
perous end. And this w^e may with good conscience protest, that 
we have in every point and word, according to the measure of 
that knowledge which it pleased almighty God to give us, faith- 
fully rendered the text, and in all hard places most sincerely 
expounded the same. For God is our witness, that we have by 
all means endeavoured to set forth the purity of the word, and 
right sense of the Holy Ghost, for the edifying of the brethren 
in faith and charity." 

After particularly stating their anxiety to render this work as 
nearly as possible conformable to the originals, they proceed, 

" Therefore, as brethren that are partakers of the same hope 
and salvation with us, we beseech you that this rich pearl and 
inestimable treasure may not be offered in vain, but as sent 
from God to the people of God, for the increase of his kingdom, 
the comfort of his church, and discharge of our consciences, 
whom it hath pleased him to raise up for this purpose, so you 
would willingly receive the word of God, earnestly study it, and 
in all your life practise it, that ye may now appear indeed to be 
the people of God, not walking any more according to this world, 
but in the fruits of the Spirit, that God in us may be fully glori- 
fied, through Jesus Christ our Lord, wholiveth and reigneth for 
ever. Amen." 

On the accession of queen Elizabeth, Coverdale returned from 
the continent. Experience had tended to make him anxious for 
a more thorough reformation from popery, than was agreeable 

41* 445 



6 Miles Cover dale, — Life, 

to many leading characters in church and state at that period. 
He, therefore, with Fox, Jewell, and others regretted much the 
futile efforts made to conciliate the papists, and was in conse- 
quence ranked among the moderate non-conformists ; thus for 
some time, preferment was not offered to him. Coverdale's 
advanced age also unfitted him for resuming episcopal duties, 
but he preached repeatedly at Paul's Cross. Grindal, being 
much attached to him, was uneasy at this neglect of one, who 
as he expressed it, " was in Christ before them all, " and now 
was lefl without support. The bishopric of Landaff appears to 
have been offered to Coverdale in consequence of this interfer- 
ence, but his age and infirmities, with the reasons above men- 
tioned, decided him against accepting it. Grindal then pre- 
sented him to the rectory of St. Magnus, London Bridge, this 
his poverty prevented him from entering upon till the first fruits 
were forgiven. He wrote to archbishop Parker in January, 
1564, requesting him to favour his suit to the queen for this 
benefit, urging the destitute condition in which he had been, 
since his bishopric was violently taken from him. In affecting 
terms he notices that he was not likely, " long to enjoy this be- 
nefice, going upon my grave as they say, and not likely to live a 
year." Soon after, he wrote to Cecil for his interest, to the same 
effect, adding, that if now poor old Miles might thus be provided 
for, he should think " this enough," to be as good as a feast. The 
queen granted Coverdale's request. He lived till February 1568, 
having been " quiet," as he promised archbishop Parker, though 
he came not up to the uniformity required. A short time before 
his death, he resigned the living, probably on the above account, 
but was allowed to continue officiating, though he refused to 
wear the surplice. His last hours were happy, and he departed 
at the age of eighty-one. He was buried in the church of St. 
Bartholomew, by the Exchange, his remains being attended to 
the grave by a numerous and sorrowing concourse of citizens. 

The writings of Coverdale are principally his versions of the 
scriptures, and translations of several tracts of Bullinger and 
other German Reformers, among these " A spiritual and precious 
Pearl," by Wormerius, is the most valuable. He also wrote a 
few English tracts, but the Preface to his translation of the bible, 
some extracts from his defence of Dr. Barnes, and his preface 
to the invaluable collection of the Letters of the Martyrs, pub- 
lished by him, exhibit him as a writer at different periods of his 
life, and appear most suitable for the present collection of the 
writings of the British Reformers, which would be very imper- 
fect without some notice of one who had so materially benefited 
the church of Ciirist in England during four successive reigns. 



446 



ANNE ASKEW. 



The persecution urged forward by bishop Gardiner and his asso- 
ciates during the latter years of Henry VIII., was aimed at queen 
Catherine Parr, and several of her attendants, with others of rank at 
court. The narrow escape of the queen has been related ; but one 
of her attendants, Mrs. Anne Askew, and a gentleman of the royal 
household, named Lascels, were burned. 

Anne Askew* was the second daughter of Sir William Askew, 
of Kelsey in Lincolnshire. A marriage was planned between the 
eldest sister and the heir of a neighbouring gentleman named Kyme, 
but she died before the union took place. Sir William, unwilling to 
lose an advantageous match, compelled his second daughter to marry 
Kyme. Tiie marriage was against her will, but when it had taken 
place, she demeaned herself like a Christian wife, and became the 
mother of two children. After a time, by the study of the Scrip- 
tures, she was convinced of the errors of popery, and became a true 
follower of Christ Her husband, being a bigoted papist, was much 
enraged at this change, and after a series of ill treatment, by the 
advice of his priests, violently drove her from his house. She came 
to London, where she attended upon the queen, and sought a divorce 
on the ground of her husband's conduct, considering that his cruel 
usage had released her obligations, according to the principle laid 
down by St. Paul, 1 Cor. vii. 15. 

Anne Askew's beauty, learning, and piety, procured her much es- 
teem fi"om the queen's friends, while she was hated by Gardiner and 
his party. Her conduct was irreproachable. A strong testimony in 
her favour was borne by a papist, according to the following relation 
from Strype. "A great papist of Wickham college, called Wadloe, 
a cursitor of the chancery, hot in his religion, and thinking not well 
of her life, got himself lodged at the next house to her. For what 
purpose need not be opened. But the conclusion was, that instead 
of speaking evil of her, he gave her the praise to sir Leonil Throg- 
morton, for the devoutest and godliest woman that ever he knew. 
For, said he, at midnight she beginneth to pray, and ceaseth not for 
many hours after, w^hen I, and others are at sleep or at work." 

In 1546, she was accused of heresy, and made an undaunted pro- 
fession of the truth, an account of which being penned by her own 
hand, was conveyed to Bale, and printed by him in Germany. Bale 
accompanied it with severe reflections upon the conduct of the Ro- 
manists towards her, which it does not appear necessary to reprint, 
as the affecting narrative is a sufficient comment upon the proceed- 
ings of her persecutors. 

* Her name is also spelled Ascue and Ayscough. 
238 



A 
BRIEF ACCOUNT 



PATRICK HAMILTON, 

Abbot of Fearn, in Scotland, and Martyr, 1528. 



Patrick Hamilton, abbot of Fearn, was the first person burned in 
Scotland for the doctrines of the Reformation. He was of noble and 
royal descent, and not more than twenty-three years of age. He had 
travelled in Germany, and visited Lutlier, Melancthon, and otlier 
reformers, by whom he was instructed in the knowledge of the truth; 
and in the university of Marburg, he publicly advanced the conclu- 
sions respecting faith and works, which propositions are set forth in 
his treatise, called Patrick's Places. 

Having thus received the truth, he became desirous to impart it 
to his countrymen, and returned home. On his arrival, wherever 
he came, he exposed the corruptions of the Church of Rome, and 
preached the gospel. Many listened to his discourses, and were in- 
clined to adopt tlie doctrines of the Reformation. At this the popish 
clergy were alarmed ; but as Hamilton had expressed his views with 
caution, so as not easily to afford them a pretext for proceeding 
against him, they enticed him to St. Andrews, to confer with arch- 
bishop Beaton, and appointed a Dominican friar, named Campbell, 
to converse with him, and draw forth the declaration of his opinions, 
under the pretence of desiring instruction. Having succeeded in 
this treacherous design, they caused Hamilton to be seized in his 
bed at midnight, and carried to the castle. 

On the next day, February 28, 1528, he was brought before the 
bishops and clergy, accused of maintaining the doctrines of the Re- 
formation, condemned to be burned, and almost immediately after 
led fortli to the stake; his execution being hastened lest the king, 
who was then absent on a pilgrimage to Ross-shire, should interfere, 
and prevent the cruel designs of the popish ecclesiastics. Hamilton 
sulTered with much constancy, desiring the people " to keep in 
mind the example of his death; for although bitter to the flesh, and 
fearful in tlie sight of men, yet it is the entrance to eternal life, 
which none can inherit who deny Christ I" The flame being kindled, 
he cried with a loud voice "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! How 
long shall darkness overwhelm this realm, and how long wilt thou 
suffer the tyranny of men ?*' Friar Campbell exhorted him repeat- 
edly to recant, and call upon the Virgin Mary ; upon which Hamil- 
ton reminded him of what had passed in tlicir private con feren res, 
and summoned him to answer for his conduct at the judgment-st at 
of Christ by a certain time which lie named. The conscience-stricken 
friar expired in a frenzy of despair before that period arrived. 
334 



HENRY BALKNAVES. 



Henry Balnaves, of Halhill, was born of poor parents in the town 
of Kirkaldy, in Scotland. When yet a boy he travelled to the con- 
tinent. Hearing of a free school at Cologne, he procured admission, 
and received a liberal education with instruction in the principles 
of the Reformation. Returning* to his native country, he studied the 
law, and was for some time in the family of the earl of Arran, by 
whom he was employed in public affairs, but was dismissed in 1542, 
for having embraced the protestant faith. In 1546, he took refuge in 
the castle of St. Andrew's with those who had put cardinal Beaton 
to death. Though he was not concerned in that act, he was declared 
a traitor, and excommunicated. During the siege which ensued, he 
went to England, whence he returned with supplies of provisions 
and money. Upon the surrender of the castle to the French, he was 
conveyed to Rouen with Knox and others, where they were detained 
prisoners contrary to the terms of capitulation. While in prison, 
Balnaves composed a treatise on Justification, which being conveyed 
to Knox, then a prisoner on board the gallies, the latter was so much 
pleased with the work, as to divide it into chapters, adding marginal 
notes, and an epitome of the contents. He prefixed a recommendatory 
preface, in which he gives an account of the treatise and its origin. 
There is reason to think that the manuscript was conveyed to Scot- 
land about this time, but was mislaid, and for many years supposed 
to be lost. After the death of Knox, it was discovered by Knox's 
Secretary, Bannantine, in the hands of a child, and was printed in 
1584, under the title of A Confession of Faith. 

Balnaves returned to Scotland in 1559, and was again employed 
in public affairs. In 1563, he was appointed one of the lords of ses- 
sion ; he died at Edinburgh in 1579. Dr. M'Crie says that he raised 
himself, by his talents and probity, from an obscure station to the 
first honours of the state, and was justly regarded as one of the prin- 
cipal supporters of the reformed cause in Scotland. 

The treatise of Balnaves is now reprinted from the edition of 
1584. Dr. M'Crie, in his life of Knox, has given several passages 
from it, considering that he could not give a more correct view of 
the sentiments of the great Scottish Reformer on the fundamental 
article of faith — the doctrine of Justification — than by quoting from 
a book which was revised and approved by him. 

358 



m 

A 

BRIEF ACCOUNT 

OF 

JOHN CARELESS. 



John Careless was a weaver of Coventry ; a devoted follower of the 
truth. He was imprisoned for two years in Coventry gaol, and af- 
terwards in the King's Bench, London, where he died in July 1556, 
and, his body being cast out into the fields, was buried in a dunghill. 
Fox has preserved a part of his examination before Dr. Martin, from 
wlience he appears to have declared the reason of the hope that was 
in him without hesitation, and he would doubtless have been sent to 
the stake had not God been pleased to take him away from the cruel 
designs of the adversaries of the truth. Strype speaks of Careless 
as an "excellent, pious man, and confessor;" and describes him as 
** one of that sort of laymen, who in the private assemblies of the pro- 
fessors, in those hard times, performed the office of ministers among 
them. For when the learned preachers and ministers were most of 
them burnt or fled, as they were by the middle of the reign, and 
their flocks left destitute of their faithful pastors, some of the laity, 
tradesmen or others, endued with parts and some learning, used in 
that distress to read the Scriptures to the rest in their meetings, and 
the letters of the martyrs and prisoners, and other good books; also 
to pray with them, and exhort them to stand fast, and to comfort 
and establisli them in the confession of Christ, to tlie death." The 
length of Caroless's imprisonment, however, must have prevented 
him from taking much personal share in these labours, and his prin- 
cijjal service to the persecuted flock of Christ was his letters, which 
are numerous and valuable. It is pleasing to observe the confidence 
and esteem with which tliis poor layman was treated by Philpot and 
others, eminent for their rank, learning, and ability ; they were " all 
one in Christ." 

The letters of Careless were printed by Coverdale in his collection, 
and some were added by Fox; but they arc now given in a complete 
form, for the first time since the year 15G4. They contain lively 
delineations of his Cliristiau experience and faitli in Josus, set forth 
in the fullest manner, witli a deep sense of his own unworthiness; 
and the reader will not turn aside from the letters of Careless be- 
cause he may find in them expressions of a more homely cast than 
in the writings of those who enjoyed advantages superior to his, as 
to human learning. The dates of these letters were not preserved, 
and as the greater part of them do not refer to particular events of 
those days, they cannot be arranged in the order of time when writ- 
ten. 
404 



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